


Chasms of Copper

by rapunzelina664



Series: Metals of the Moon Series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Betrayal, Cute, F/M, I just don't want eight year-olds reading this because there are kiss scenes, Love, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Paranormal, Rated 'Teens and Up' because this is technically a YA book, Romance, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves, after all, and descriptions in which the main character has a mental breakdown/panic attack., clean, clean read, slightly graphic descriptions (this is a werewolf book, there will be fight scenes)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapunzelina664/pseuds/rapunzelina664
Summary: [Metals of the Moon Trilogy: Book 1]Roy Talonn, the Gamma of the Fortem Lupus Pack, doesn't want his mate.Okay, that's not 100% true. The man is at war with himself and his own wolf, Cliffe--for the matter. He knows his life is too dangerous--there are some werewolves known to resent others who have his pack position--there have been instances where they've attacked wolves of power. Plus, he has a secret; a sad and dark secret. As far as he knows, the only way he can protect his mate from his past is to break their relationship off before it has even begun.Morgan Gray is the cute brunette nerd who works at a bookstore with her best friend.She's a ball of spontaneity and good character; a dorky ray of sunshine. Although not an extrovert, she knows how to talk to people and break down their walls. Mo is a good match for someone who constantly puts up the walls. Specifically, Roy Talonn. But there's a slight problem; she's human.Will Roy finally trust Morgan enough to let her in? To reveal the burden he carries?And when tragedy strikes their lives, will they be able to recover?Trust me when I say this; their story is worth reading.
Series: Metals of the Moon Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058030
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. An Introduction to the Werewolf World

**Author's Note:**

> Note about the story: This is rated 'Teens and Up' because this is technically a YA book. This is a clean read, and is okay for all ages. I just don't want eight-year-olds reading this 'cause there are kiss scenes, slightly graphic descriptions (this is a werewolf book, after all, there will be fight scenes), and descriptions in which the main character has a mental breakdown/panic attack.

Hey! 

It's come to my attention, that some of you haven't read a werewolf book, before! And that's okay! Since this is a werewolf book, allow me to introduce you!  
First off, in this type of story, you gotta know the specifics. Not all of these will apply to this book; these are just the basics to the average werewolf story.

'''''

In this kind of story, werewolves don't morph into this half man-half wolf monster on full moons. Instead, they look like humans and can shift at any time. Most wolves shift when they are 16 or so.

Most werewolves have mates. By mates, I mean "soulmates". It is said that the Moon Goddess chooses each and every mate. They are the perfect half to each other. Mates can be either both werewolves, or one werewolf and one human. They can find each other if they are both at or over the age of 16. In most books, when mates find each other, one (or both) of them says "Mate" or "Mine." This is a sign of acceptance and marking territory. After meeting their mate, they can either reject them, or accept them. If they are both rejected, they can part ways and never see each other again. If they both accept, then that leads to them moving in together, and eventually completing the mating process.

The mating process (in most books) is 4 parts:

1\. Acceptance

2\. Moving in together

3\. The Marking

4\. Tying the Knot

We've already covered part 1 and 2.

The Marking is when the male bites the female on the collarbone. It only hurts at the beginning, then the feelings of euphoria take place; she either feels loopy and ecstatic, or she feels really tired. (This will NOT be included in MY story)

Step Four, is basically either solved by marriage or 'doing the deed.' Sometimes, it's both. (This will NOT be included in MY story)

And don't worry! If you're not comfortable reading that stuff (I'm not either) most books cut out the mature scenes, or at least have warnings at the beginning.

Also, in some books, there is something called "The Heat" that takes place. (This will NOT be included in MY story)

It is after werewolf mates have found each other and typically happens after the Marking. It is when the female (and sometimes the male) is overcome by a burning sensation. It was created by the Moon Goddess to help speed the mating process up. You see, the Heat happens every full moon. And it can't be stopped until the mates complete the mating process.

Now that the mate stuff is taken care of; we have the 'Werewolf Hierarchy.'

The highest ranking werewolf is the Alpha. An Alpha's job is to protect his pack, and make sure they grow and prosper. He is also in charge of decision- making. His rank is only matched by his mate, the Luna. The 2nd in command is the Beta. It is his job to support the Alpha and to carry out his orders. His match is his mate. And the 3rd in command is the Gamma. His job is commonly to train the werewolf warriors. His match is his mate.

Next, we have the different types of groups.

Thankfully, there are only 2 different kinds of groups. There are packs (which have the Alpha system) members of the pack can mind-link to each other. This means that they can talk in their minds. Then there are the rogues. The rogues are made up of either runaways, loners, or traitors. They choose to live their lifestyle because on Alpha can control them. At least, that's what they think.

Finally, we have the wolves, themselves.

Every werewolf has a wolf in their head. They're a kind of mix between a voice in their head and a conscience. They and their wolves can talk with each other. The wolves have different names than their humans.

That's the basics.

Now, I'm gonna explain my story.

'''''

{Summary/description}

Roy Talonn, the Gamma of the Fortem Lupus Pack, doesn't want his mate.

Okay, that's not 100% true. The man is at war with himself and his own wolf, Cliffe---for that matter. He knows that his life is too dangerous---there are some wolves who have been known to resent other wolves who have pack positions similar to his. There have even been instances where they've attacked other wolves in positions of power in the werewolf hierarchy. Plus, he has a secret; a sad and dark secret. And as far as he knows, the only way he can protect his mate from his future and past is to break off their relationship before it has even begun.

Morgan Gray is the cute brunette nerd who works at a bookstore with her best friend.

She's a ball of sponteneity and good character; a dorky ray of sunshine. Although not an extrovert, Mo knows how to talk to people and get past their walls. She's a good match for someone who constantly puts up said walls. Specifically, Roy Talonn. But there's a slight problem; she's human. And human mates are often targeted.

What will happen when their lives collide? Will Roy finally trust Morgan enough to let her in? Will he reveal the burden he carries? And when tragedy strikes their lives, will they be able to recover?

Trust me when I say this; their story is worth reading.

{Summary/description is now over}

'''''

In this, practically everything above applies, with the exception of the Heat, marking, and the 'Completion of the Mating Process.' I don't like that concept and would never force my fictional characters to do that.

Now, let me introduce the fictional characters.

Alpha: Jason Landon (His wolf's name is Thayne)

Beta: Chase McGinnia (His wolf's name is Lian)

Gamma: Roy Talonn (His wolf's name is Cliffe)

Introducing Gamma Female: Morgan Gray (She's human and is Roy's mate)

The two main characters are Roy and Morgan.

Finally, if you are wondering why I chose to name my book "Chasms of Copper", allow me to explain!

I noticed the connection between the status of werewolves and the status of metals. For instance, an Alpha is the highest level of werewolves. And Gold is considered the highest level of metals. So; Alpha = Gold. Same thing with the second in command; the Beta. And Silver is the 2nd place medal/metal. Beta = Silver. And finally, the same can be said about the Gamma and Copper/Bronze. Gamma = Copper.

As you probably know, this book will be about the Gamma and his mate. And if you read the description, you know that he has a secret. The definition of a Chasm is "a deep fissure in the earth, rock, or another surface." So, this is referring to the Gamma's big secret. ('Cause he's like a rock, and the secret is like a deep fissure in him) Hence, the title literally translates to something along the lines of "The Gamma's Secret." You're welcome, Literary Analysis.  
`````

That's all I can think of for now!!


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's Thoughts

**Roy's Thoughts**

_Mates._

_That's all anyone ever talks about. That they can't wait to meet their perfect half. I know that mates are supposed to be important and all, but I don't think I need one. Correction; I don't want one. My wolf, Cliffe, does. But not me. He wants to rely on our mate._

_I've done just fine on my own. I've gone from the bottom of the chain to being the Third in Command of my Pack. I run the most disciplined pack warriors that there is. And I did all of this without help. I don't need a mate. And the sooner my wolf accepts that, the better._

_For both of us._


	3. Chapter 1

** Roy **

"Whatcha doing?"

Roy turned to see his friend stride into the office and slam the door shut behind him.

He rather looked out of place in Roy's office, to tell the truth. The dark wooden paneling ran along the walls and bookcases. Despite the dark brown walls, the room was cozy and inviting--if a little overwhelming, as well. The warm-burgundy carpet was the perfect accent for the leather chair, dark wooden desk, old maps mounted to the walls, decorative fireplace, and the ever-resent scent of old books. The office was 'sophisticate', personified.

And then there was Chase. In an old Dairy Queen T-shirt, and gray sweatpants.

Roy leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his dark brown hair in a frustrated and exasperated manner.

"None of your business," he shot back. "It'd bore you, anyway."

His fair-haired friend just laughed. Typical Chase.

"That's probably true, but I'm trying to make conversation with you."

"Why?" Roy raised an eyebrow, sensing a catch in what Chase said.

"Jason's held up in pack meetings, right now. We've hardly seen you in the past few weeks, so he ordered me to visit you, in his place." He flashed a cheeky grin.

Roy nodded. Yep, there it was--the real reason that Chase decided to get off his lazy butt and talk to Roy. Figures.

Most people found it weird when they found out that Chase McGinnia and Roy Talonn were best friends. Especially considering how different they were. Both physically and in personality.

They were both tall, Caucasian, and well-built. But that's where the similarities ended.

Chase had sandy blond hair and was blue-eyed. And even though he was the pack's Beta, he often dressed like a teenager. He normally wore a variation ripped jeans or sweats, tennis shoes, and t-shirts with various band names on them. That was, unless he was trying to impress the ladies. Which was when he got his act together for fashion and donned the oh-so-attractive crimson shirts with sleeves that reached the middle of his forearms, nice jeans, and layered according to what was trending. 

His blond hair was long, for a guy, and brushed past the tips of his ears. Roy called the look 'scruffy' and 'being too lazy to groom and properly care for himself.' Chase, however, insisted that it was a style. He was a ladies' man and--although Roy doubted that his friend had even _kissed_ a girl--he reveled in all the female attention.

Roy, on the other hand, had medium-length dark brown hair--which he was particular about and preferred to style it with a smidge of hair gel, as was his routine. His skin was fairly smooth, but if looked at close enough, he had the occasional freckle here and there. His eyes were a the most generic part about him, in his opinion. They were a deep brown, and that was that. (And much to his annoyance, Chase once remarked that he thought Roy's eyes to be closer to the shade of poop-brown.) The Gamma took his role in the pack very seriously and always dressed the part. His normal choice of outfit was very generic; a fitted gray shirt and slim dark-wash jeans, paired with whatever shoes that weren't dirty. Not too 'professional', but it didn't look like he lived under a bridge. And when he was training the werewolves, he wore his average workout clothes.

Roy wouldn't say that he was _unattractive_ , as he'd had his own fair share of female groupies. However, the brunette male had never payed any real attention to them. They were all the same, really. Not to stereotype them--as he was always a gentleman and didn't like to judge people by their first impressions--but the majority of the girls were only interested in his position in the Pack. And Roy had seen that clearly. Eventually, though, they got the gist that Roy wasn't interested and made their way to the Beta, whose ego unfortunately has never been the same--Roy thought.

Where Roy was serious and logical, Chase was all jokes and play.

Roy supposed it was what made them a good team. But most of the time, the blond acted like a giant kid. It got to be pretty annoying.

Chase's nature seriously made the Gamma question why Jason picked _him_ as the Beta.

Thankfully, Chase wasn't a complete nincompoop. If there was one thing that he took seriously, it was his pack duties. His duties mainly consisted of ensuring the pack's safety and helping their Alpha (and best friend), Jason Landon, with strategy and taking care of official pack business. The blond-haired man also was deemed to check up on the surrounding packs, to determine and eliminate threats, as well as keep an ear to the ground for PIDs (Packs In Distress) 

"I'm going over the warriors' training routine." Roy lifted his hand, indicating the charts laid out on the desk.

"Why, though?" Chase wrinkled his nose. "It's the same schedule as it is every day! It's absolutely pointless!"

His friend shot a glare at him.

 _Because it's my job,_ Roy mind-linked to Chase--too annoyed to verbally exhaust himself.

The Beta raised his hands in a defensive manner.

"Jeez, bro. Calm down!" He chuckled as he ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. "I get it; you're Mr. Grumpy-pants. But you've been acting like this for _weeks._ This is a whole new level, even for you!"

Roy groaned and put his head in his hands.

 _I hate it when he's right._ He thought to himself.

"So, what's got your tail in such a twist?" Chase smirked as he leant against a bookshelf.

"I don't know," Roy sat up and cast his eyes down to the floor, embarrassed at being vulnerable. "My wolf's not too happy right now."

"What's the matter with Cliffe?"

"That's just the thing; he won't talk to me!"

The Gamma ran a hand through his hair, again, making it disheveled. It was becoming an increasingly familiar gesture the more he got stressed and annoyed. 

Chase chuckled and shook his head.

"You, my good man, need to get yourself a girl."

Roy felt his body stiffen at his friend's words. He slowly looked up at his friend, trying to decipher his expression.

"What do you mean?" he said, cautiously.

"I'm just sayin' that when you find your mate, you can go to her with your problems. I'm sure that a couple of smooches will clear up whatever's got your wolf feeling down!" The Beta smirked, sounding very pleased with himself.

_If only he knew..._

Roy felt his wolf's presence in the back of his mind, like the nagging of a guilty thought. Cliffe still said nothing, just made himself present in Roy's mind to show that he knew that he was thinking. 

The brunette male winced and rubbed his sore jaw. All of this clenching of his teeth was going to be a problem and mess up his jaw, if he kept at it. But it was the only thing that kept him from going against his resolve.

Roy noticed the look Chase was giving him, and quickly composed himself. He locked gazes with his friend, changing the subject.

"Look, Chase, I can't think about this, right now. I'm busy," Roy said, motioning to the training schedules on his desk. "Is there anything else you want to say before I kick you out?"

"Nope, just that I'm gonna go by the 'Reader's Nook.' Wanna come?"

Roy did a double-take in surprise. 

"The bookstore? I didn't know you could read."

With the exception of the back of a cereal box, Chase hardly read unless he had to or if his Beta duties required it.

"Hey!" Chase said, trying not to laugh. "I didn't say that! I just don't _like_ to read."

"Then why are you going to the _Reader's Nook?"_

"There are some cute girls who work the 12-4 shift," he shrugged.

"Of course, why didn't I think of that?" Roy said, in a snarky voice.

Chase blanched at Roy's tone, instantly making the Gamma feel guilty for lashing out. The blonde male shook his head, trying to get his wits about him after his friend's uncalled for outburst.

"Dude, lower the attitude." He glared, giving one of his rare serious looks. "Seriously, you need to find your mate; this anger-issue is getting out of hand."

With that, Chase walked out of the room and shut the wood-paneled door behind him. Roy winced at the loud sound--additionally feeling guilty for snapping at his close friend.

But the Gamma couldn't help but feel resentful of his friend for bringing up his mate.

First, it was his wolf, Cliffe, and now Chase. Two of the four beings whose opinions he valued most.

It was hard enough, making the decision without telling anybody. And then his wolf was against the plan from the very beginning. It pained him to do it, but he knew what would happen if he didn't. Whoever she was, she didn't deserve to have a mate with so much baggage and issues as he came with.

Roy was doing this for their own good. For himself, Cliffe, and _her._

_I'm going to reject my mate._


	4. Chapter 2

** Morgan **

Bright blue eyes were one of the first things that Morgan noticed about the old woman. The lady also had coarse, curly gray hair. Her wrinkles mostly gathered around the corners of her eyes, mouth, and forehead--they were figments of the expressions she wore in all her years. She was tall, for an elderly person, and moved with such spirit; one would have assumed that she was in the prime of her life, rather then her sixties. But her eyes showed still more spirit and spunk. They held intelligence and stubborn kindness. And, right now, they held a more judicial light as they surveyed the younger woman before her.

Morgan Gray was exceptionally good at her trade. She was a master bargainer, a perfect middle-man, and most of all, she knew how to work with a tough customer. That was why she had the desk job. Because, although not an introvert, she knew how to work through people's walls and to see what they needed.

Mo met Josephine Jasper's blue eyes with her own. Her green-hued eyes held as much stubbornness as she gave the elderly woman an appraising look---trying to see if she could wait out Mrs. Jasper's defenses. 

At last, Mrs. Jasper smirked and eased her stare. She leant forward and placed the stack of books on the counter.

"I believe you are right, young lady," She admitted, finally. "These are just the purchases I need."

Morgan let out a small sigh of relief.

"I'm glad you think so, Jo," she said, and rang up the items. "That'll be twenty dollars."

"Oh, hush, girl," Josephine Jasper said. She reached her age-worn hand into her purse to retrieve her wallet. "There are at least six books, there. You and I both know that should be at least sixty dollars." She withdrew the amount and tried to hand the dollar-bills to the brunette.

"No need," Mo said, waving the elderly woman's money away.

"Yes need!" Mrs. Jasper insisted, and whacked the small stack of bills on the other woman's hand. "You're much too thin! Go use this money on food and put some meat on those bones!" The woman with shoulder-length brown hair laughed at the older lady's remark.

"Thanks, Jo, but I'm doing fine. I have plenty of junk food at home, believe me." Morgan smiled and lightly pushed the excess money away. "Besides," she said. "I know that the majority of these are for Noah. Consider it my birthday gift to your grandson. He was always very energetic about the 'I Survived...' book series, so this is my treat, to him."

At last, Mrs. Jasper lowered the extra wad of cash in defeat. She met the brunette's green eyes with her own.

"You're a very stubborn girl," she mused and stuffed the money beck in her wallet. "It's an admirable quality, but it might take you too far, one day."

"Then let's hope that day isn't any time soon."

Morgan held out the plastic bag that held the stack of books to the elderly woman. With a grateful smile and a bid of 'goodbye', Josephine took the bag into her arms. The brunette young woman smiled as she witnessed the old lady walk away; happy with her purchase.

"How did you do it?!"

Morgan turned to see her co-worker, Jane, who was gazing at the older woman's retreating figure in awe. The redhead's mouth was slightly ajar--the tips of her white teeth peaked from behind her rosy lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Old Mrs. Jasper hates everyone!! How did you befriend her in less than 15 minutes?!"

Jane's expression was a mix of amusement and surprise. The wavy red flyaways of hair that framed her face shone amber in the summer sunlight streaming through the window. The warm light made the redhead's lavender top appear to be a lighter tone, as it sat atop her shoulders. Morgan shrugged.

"It isn't a big deal, you just gotta know how to talk to people. I mean, I'm no extrovert, but I do know enough about social cues," she said, in an off-hand manner. "I could tell that she was grumpy," Morgan continued; tucking her light-brown hair behind her ears. "So, I just smiled and asked her how her day was. She tried to shut me down, but after a few minutes of being kind to her, I got her to open up a bit. She's been coming here, for a while, and I remembered her grandson, Noah, is turning nine, so I was able to decipher what kind of book he might have wanted. It wasn't very hard." The brunette shrugged.

"Unbelievable!" Jane exclaimed, laughing slightly.

"What's unbelievable?"

"Well," the brunette's friend responded. "It's almost like you have a superpower for getting on everyone's good sides."

"It's not a superpower," Mo defended herself and started sorting through the 'donations' box. "I guess I just have a gut feeling when it comes to certain people. Like, it's a fun puzzle to solve when I get to help them. It's like a small victory, to myself, when I help someone get something that they didn't know that they needed, but at the same time that they couldn't imagine their life without. Sentimental things do the trick, most of the time."

"Yeah, whatever," the redhead rolled her gray-green eyes. "I'm still gonna call it your 'superpower.'"

"Jane?" The girls' boss, Edith, called from the storeroom. "Can you help me with these?"

Jane chuckled and brushed her wavy red hair out of her face with the back of her hand.

"Duty calls," she trilled over her shoulder as she made her way to the back.

Mo smiled at her friend's retreating figure. She was such a nice girl. From the moment they had first met—a couple years previous—Morgan had known that they would be close friends.

Jane had stuck out to the girl from the rest of the other co-workers of their first job. She often reminded Mo of a small orphan girl with a huge imagination the she used to read stories about when she was younger. Maybe it was her red hair, or green-grey eyes—but Morgan liked to think that it was Jane's smile that was the first thing that caught her attention. She could tell that the redhead was, in the words of Anne Shirley, 'a kindred spirit.'

At the sound of the store bell, the brunette was brought out of her reminiscing, and back to Earth. She quickly finished tidying up the donations box and tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear. At last, Mo turned to face yet another customer.

He was quite good-looking, but not her type. Shaggy blond hair that reached his ears was flopped—in an almost deliberately careless style—over one of his blue eyes. He obviously didn't style it because the locks bounced with every step he took. The man wore jeans, converse shoes, a band-embellished blue shirt, and donned a crimson hooded jacket. He also carried himself with the kind of goofy charisma that most guys did. It was just a given.

What surprised Morgan, however, was the way he reacted upon seeing her. At first he eyed the young woman, curiously. It wasn't in a creepy way—thank goodness. It was more like he was confused; like he recognized something, but he didn't know what it was. Slowly, his steps on the faded purple carpet faded. She noticed the slight falter in his long gait. He visibly stiffened when he locked eyes with the brunette. Then, he tilted his head; a confused look on his face.

_Weirdo._

"Hi, welcome to the 'Reader's Nook'. My name's Morgan. How can I help you?" The brunette said, in the cheeriest voice she could muster.

The guy just silently stared at Mo, looking puzzled. He appeared like he was searching for something, but didn't know what. Which, Morgan supposed, was good for her—as it was her specialty. Now the only problem was, what was he looking for?

"Um, hello?" The woman said, waving her hand in front of his unfocused blue eyes. He blinked and abruptly shook his head; his sandy blonde locks swayed as he did so.

"Sorry, I—I spaced out for a bit," he said and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm Chase, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Chase."

Morgan assumed that he would wander throughout the bookstore, like most customers did. And then he'd wind up either finding what he was looking for, or he'd take the blow to his pride and ask the brunette for assistance. But neither happened. Instead, he just stood there, observing her face in a thoughtful manner—almost like he was scanning for that something that he was missing out on.

"I'm sorry," he said with a furrowed brow. "Have we met?"

"Um, no? I don't think so..." Nervous, the brunette tucked her hair behind her ears, again. She was slightly uncomfortable with the situation, to tell the truth. She had such a small friend group and had no family members, she doubted that she'd actually met this man in her life.

Chase furrowed his brows in a confused frown.

"That doesn't make any sense..." Mo heard him mumble.

"I beg your pardon?"

Snapping out of his daze, he shook his head, pasting a fake smile on his handsome face.

"It's nothing, sorry." He apologized and flashed a toothy grin.

"It's okay," She told him. "How can I help you?"

Chase had that distant look in his eyes, again; like he was lost in thought.

"Sir?" She questioned. "Hey, dude? Are you alright?"

When he didn't respond, Morgan snapped her dainty fingers in front of his face. With a start, the man came back to reality.

"Wha—what?" He squawked.

"I just wanted to ask if you need any help choosing a book." She giggled.

"Book?"

_Okay, now I'm a little concerned._ Morgan thought, to herself. _Does he genuinely not know where he is?! Is he on drugs?!_

"Yeah, a book," Mo said cautiously. "You know, 'cause you're in a bookstore. Where we sell books. These wonderful things called 'books' hold the key to everything. Or just to your imagination. Or just to being accompanied with a really good sandwich. Are you looking for one?"

He fixed the brunette with a playful, but pointed glare.

"A book, I mean," she quickly amended. "Not the sandwich part."

"Um, yeah, but I already know what I want." He sounded hesitant. As if his voice wasn't a tell-tale sign enough, he was rubbing the back of his neck, again. It appeared to be a nervous habit of his. 

"You do?" Morgan asked, doubtfully.

"Of course I do! I want..." Chase paused and looked around, grabbing a random book off of the shelf. "This is the one. I've been looking for a copy of this everywhere!"

"You've been looking for ' _The Grapes Of Wrath_ '?"

"Erm—yes. Yes, I have. It's—uh—for my...book club..."

His face was the picture of guilt, he obviously was a bad liar. Choosing to ignore his fib, Morgan rolled her eyes and led him to the cash register.

"Okay, then." She held her hand out for the book. He stared at it, blankly. "Are you gonna pay for the book?" She prompted when he said nothing."

"You know what?" The young woman watched as he put down the book. "On second thought, I'll leave this here. I just remembered I—um— I left the oven on! Yeah—and my—my spinach puffs are gonna burn!"

Without so much as another word, Chase quickly stalked out of the store. His hooded jacket made a whoosh of air as he turned and stalked off in a hurry. Morgan watched as he nearly crashed into the doorframe; he became deep in thought, again.

"What was that about?"

Mo turned to see Jane, with an armload of books, standing behind her. Her redheaded best friend had an odd look about her. Like she couldn't figure out what just happened. It was a feeling that Morgan was experiencing, as well.

"I have no idea," She said, honestly. "But I have a feeling that that's not the last time we're gonna see him again."


	5. Chapter 3

** Morgan **

The brunette finished dusting the shelves and replaced the bookends---making sure that the novels would remain upright. She smoothed the material of the book spines, loving the way they felt on the tips of her fingers. 

With the exception of the... interesting.... scene with Chase, the rest of Morgan's day was completely normal. Jane aided Edith with the storage units while Mo helped please the customers. The young girl, Katelyn, asked if there was a new werewolf book, yet. Mrs. Jasper came back, wanting a new book. She hinted that she wanted to be asked about how her grandchildren were doing. And Edith lost her reading glasses on her head. Jane and Morgan helped the kind lady find them and they all laughed over how it happened, practically daily. Thankfully, it was the end of the day.

Mo looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the store and noted that it was only a few minutes before hers and Jane's shifts ended. She began to clear off the counter and stack up the remaining exchanged books. The brunette watched Jane groan as she took in the pile of books for her to put in storage. And being the _wonderful_ friend she was, Morgan laughed at her best friend's misery.

"Oh, put a cork in it, Mo," the redhead whined. "You have the easy job!"

"Yeah, but at least you'll have muscles after lifting all those heavy books!" Morgan giggled. "Whereas I will become Mrs. Marshmallow." She patted her stomach, for emphasis.

That got Jane to laugh. It took a few moments for her to finally stop clutching her stomach and for her giggles to subside.

"Whatever you say, girlie. You and I both know you would sooner marry Ice Cream than a marshmallow."

"Darn right!"

Laughing at her friend's terrible impression of a western accent, Jane picked up the hefty pile of books and went through the light-colored door that led into the back room. Almost immediately after her friend left, the front doorbell sounded and drew Mo's attention away from the redhead's retreating frame.

She could faintly hear the sound of shoes on the store's carpet and the green-colored doors that closing in the background.

"Sorry," she said, still focused on dusting. "I'm afraid we're just closing up. Is there any chance you'd be willing to wait for your book, until tomorrow?"

"I'm actually not here for a book," spoke a low, attractive voice. "Is there a Jane Maslow working right now?"

Morgan turned around to see a tall, deeply tanned man, with curly chestnut-colored hair. After a quick moment to survey his figure, the brunette determined that he had a sporty sense of fashion and was a 'take charge' kind of person. She could tell this by the clothes he wore---a red-sports shirt with dark Levi jeans and black adidas. The clothes practically _oozed_ suaveness and confidence.

She had only ever _heard_ of this guy, before. But she immediately knew who he was; upon seeing his dark brown eyes and confident smile. Even the way he lifted his eyebrows was familiar to her since she'd heard all about him. Jane was very accurate in her descriptions of him.

"Oh," the young woman spoke, coolly. She set down the duster and tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears in a business-like fashion. She cocked her hip and placed a hand on it. "You must be her boyfriend, Daniel Yewson, right? I'm Morgan. You know, Jane's _best friend?_ "

She watched him tense and nod, slowly, at her frosty tone.

_Good._

"So, Daniel, how long have you been dating Jane?" Morgan spoke, slowly.

She knew that her tone of voice was probably not the most appropriate for the situation. In a way, she sounded defensive and interrogative. But she didn't care. Jane was her closest friend. And although she's perfectly able to date whomever she wants—Morgan was very protective of her.

Her redheaded friend didn't have parents, but Mo had seen enough romance movies to know how to play the part of an overprotective parent. She was gonna grill this boy unless he proved that he was worthy enough to date her; regardless about how highly or how much Jane talked about him.

"Umm," he raised an eyebrow. "Today's our Three-Month Anniversary."

_So he remembers important dates. Give the boy an award._

"When's her birthday?"

Daniel shifted his stance backward, confused. "Don't you already know her bir—?"

"—Of course I do!" Morgan huffed. "I want to know if _you_ know it."

The brunette saw his eyes fill with understanding. It was apparent that he was perceptive---he could tell what she was after. Although she would never admit it, Morgan was a little relived by this. It meant that he might actually be a good listener for Jane's feelings. He nodded his head—ready for the oncoming bombardment of questions.

"She's an Aquarius," Daniel said, smiling kindly. "Her birthday is March 7th."

"Her favorite food?"

"Her grandma's Mac and Cheese," he swiftly answered.

"Favorite color?"

"Turquoise."

"Favorite animal?" Mo queried. There was a competitive gleam in her green eyes.

The man crossed his arms and smirked, ready for the challenge. "She likes foxes," he replied.

"Her favorite book?" 

"'Pride and Prejudice,' by Jane Austin."

_Huh,_ Morgan thought. _The boy knows his stuff._ Feeling slightly indignant that he knew her best friend almost as well as she did, Mo decided tothrow him a 'curveball' question.

"What's her favorite movie?" She asked with an innocent face as she attempted to appear nonchalant. 

Daniel smirked, confidentially. "She's too indecisive; she doesn't have a favorite movie."

Morgan triumphantly smiled. She brushed her hair away from her face with the back of her hand as she replied. "Wrong," she said. "It's 'The Greatest Showman.'"

"What?" Daniel gawked and rubbed at the scruff growing on his face. "Why is _that_ her favorite movie?"

"Two words; Zac Efron."

The man with curly chestnut-colored hair groaned and shook his head in amused disbelief.

"One more question, Mr. Yewson," Morgan said, sternly looking him in his deep brown eyes. "What are your intentions with Jane?"

She watched as he tensed for a moment, as if deciding if she was genuinely concerned or not. At last, it appeared that he had decided that she must be, because he relaxed his shoulders, sighed, and softened his features.

"Had you been anyone else," he began. "I would have told you that it wasn't your business. But I know how much you mean to each other—especially given how you're acting right now. I can see you're very protective of her. But believe me when I say that I am in love with your best friend."

In that moment, Morgan forgot to breathe. The man before her had just delivered a phrase that could not be taken back. And he did it with such passion and resolve, that she was convinced that he wouldn't take it back, even if he could. The thought of being loved that much by someone was enough to make her heart ache and her breath hitch.

"She's the water to my fire," he continued. "She's the calm to my storm. The smooth to my edge. She's my _everything_."

_Wow, that was so beautiful._ _I'm gonna cry,_ Morgan narrated her thoughts. _Somebody get me some tissues. Thank you._

Upon seeing how nervous Daniel was looking at her, she realized that he was waiting for her response to his confession and hurriedly blinked her misty eyes. She raised her head, looked him in the eye, and spoke from the heart.

"I have been with Jane through all three of her past relationships," she said. "I've known each crush, met each boyfriend, and borne my best friend through each breakup. In all of the relationships I've seen her in—all of the boyfriends she's had—not one of them had expressed as much caring and love for my beloved redheaded friend, as you just did."

Mo watched his face soften with every word she said. She could tell that what she said had meant a lot to him, and that he wasn't letting on how much he felt about it. He still had some pride---as all men did---and that tiny flitter of emotion was all that he could display, for the time being. But it was enough to convince Morgan that he really cared for Jane. 

She took a deep breath. "I know that you don't need my approval, but for what you just said about Jane; you have it."

She watched as the walls of his mask came crumbling down. His smile was so wide and genuine, it might have even rivaled the brilliance of the sun. It was the most rewarding thing, ever, to see Daniel's face light up like that. He looked as if he had won the lottery. No, he looked like he was just given the meaning of life and love.

"Thank you," he said, sincerely. He rubbed his head and blushed, slightly, embarrassed at being vulnerable. "It means a lot to both of us."

"Hey, Daniel!" Morgan heard Jane come up from behind them. The willowy redhead flung her arms around her boyfriend. "I didn't know you were coming! What're you doing here?"

The tanned man kissed the top of her auburn head, affectionately. "I wanted to surprise you. I wanna take you somewhere special, for our anniversary."

Daniel smiled warmly at a blushing Jane—who Morgan could tell was trying very hard not to swoon. And was failing at it. Her pale cheeks were flushed and her gray eyes' pupils were dilated. She was obviously ecstatic that her boyfriend was there. Mo watched as Daniel's grip tightened snuggly around Jane's thin waist--- pulling her closer in his muscular arms.

The brunette awkwardly averted her green eyes. _Man, I feel single._

"I'd love to!" Jane trilled. She turned to her friend, still with a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Mo, would you mind closing up the bookstore by yourself? Just this once?" she pleaded.

Morgan laughed. "Of course I will! But mind you," she pointed a finger at her friend, teasingly warning her. "This is a one-time thing, only!"

Jane tackled the shorter girl in a bear hug. "Thank you, Morgan! You're the best!!"

After a few moments, Jane detached herself from her bestie and skipped over to her boyfriend; linking hands with him. He led the way to the entrance of the bookstore, leaning into his side as they walked, happily. Daniel held the door open for her and followed suit with a lovestruck smile on his peachy lips. Morgan watched as the couple finally exited, laughing over something the other had said.

The young woman walked around the now-quiet bookstore, reveling in the calm atmosphere. As she did the routine checks for misplaced books, Mo couldn't help but ponder over what Daniel has said.

Were relationships always about being opposites? That didn't seem right. If two people were complete opposites, then wouldn't they'd cancel each other out?

_'She's the water to my fire.'_ Like water to fire; the flame would be put out and the water would evaporate.

 _'She's the calm to my storm.'_ If one is a storm and the other is the calm, then what is left? Nothing, except, perhaps the sky. But it would be unremarkable, all the same; without a cloud in sight.

 _'The smooth to my edge.'_ A smooth edge? It's quite the paradox. But if it were a reality, it would be a fluid matter of nothingness.

All these things were amazing in themselves, when they were separate. Yet, when combined, they had no purpose. Wouldn't it make more sense to have both combustible a _nd_ compatible qualities to share with the one you love? But, then again, this was all in theory. She was thinking in terms of actual items and descriptions; not of people.

Morgan groaned and rubbed her forehead. All this thinking was making her brain hurt. _Since when did I get so philosophical?_

With a final swipe of the counter, the brunette was done. A minute later, Mo was out of the door and in her small gray car. She turned the keys and started up the car, but she still couldn't stop thinking about the 'opposites' idea that she had.

"I need to stop," she groaned and turned on the music, desperate to distract herself from her fired-up brain.

But her attempts proved to be unsuccessful. Even blasting the 'Hamilton' soundtrack didn't do much! It seemed like there wouldn't be a lot to do to calm her thinking. Accepting defeat, Morgan paused the music and concentrated on driving. As she drove, Mo couldn't help but remember the other thing Daniel has said.

 _'She's my everything.'_ Now, _those_ were the words that every girl wanted to hear. She wondered what it felt like; to have someone be your everything. And a tiny part of Morgan also hoped that someone would one day think the same of her.


	6. Chapter 4

** Chase **

There was something off about the girl he met, yesterday. From the minute that Chase walked into 'The Reader's Nook', he noticed an unusual smell. It was very complex and confusing, however. The scent seemed to largely be feminine; vanilla, the smell of books, and something else that reminded him of forest streams. But there was also an underlying smell--like a second tone, or something. This one was masculine. He instantly recognized the scents of coffee, leather, and rain. The combination of the scents puzzled him and made him curious. He couldn't remember where he'd smelt that distinct second scent, before. It seemed both familiar and new, at the same time.

  
It had taken him by such surprise that blond man pursed it. It was almost an instinct. He had followed the scent to the young woman behind the counter, still puzzled. When he saw her, he was disappointed, to be honest. Because she smelled so familiar, he thought she might have been someone that he knew. 

Chase felt his mind wander to the events of the previous day, when he'd met the girl. She'd been standing at the bookstore's front desk when he'd met her.

 _What was her name?_ Chase tried to recall. _Mergan? Megan? Something like that, anyway_ _._

At first, Chase thought she was his mate. It was common werewolf knowledge that when one found their mate, they reported that they smelled amazing scents that came from their destined lover. But this situation couldn't have been what that was. Sure, the scents were nice, but Chase wasn't attracted to them. It was more along the lines that he was perplexed by them and wanted to know what was so familiar about it. 

After a few more moments, he was confident that the brunette girl wasn't his mate. Not that Chase would mind having her as his mate. He was a guy, after all. Just because he was oblivious and a jokester didn't mean that he didn't notice when a member of the female race looked good.

  
She was obviously a human. She didn't have the constant scent of fur that all werewolves did. Nor could he sense her wolf. The girl was fair skinned with an eased hourglass figure. She was short, compared to the Beta. He guessed that she was probably 5'5" or so. The woman had shoulder-length light brown hair and big green eyes. Her button nose scrunched, slightly, when she smiled. The brunette had been wearing a slim-fitting pink shirt and light blue shorts. Chase was far from an expert on women's fashion, but he judged by her outfit that she was a 'cutesy' kind of girl.

  
Chase remembered scanning over her face; trying to figure out if he'd seen her before. She had a pretty face, but wasn't drop-dead-gorgeous in his opinion. He was certain that he'd never seen her, before, but he did have his doubts. She seemed to be the kind of girl that he'd easily miss in a crowd.

Finally, he swallowed his pride and asked the woman. As he predicted, she'd confirmed that we'd never met. It was clear that she really wasn't his mate.

  
  
What was odd, however, was how Chase's wolf, Lian, reacted to her. Wolves couldn't verbally communicate to the werewolves that they were paired with. Instead, they were emotionally and mentally bonded. They could sense what each other was thinking and feeling. They could also feel their own wolf's presence in their minds, like a lingering thought. 

Chase could feel his wolf practically running in circles. He almost felt like a puppy wagging his tail. Lian's presence was like he was excited by the brunette woman. Like he recognized her scent, too. Which was stupid because he was just a wolf. In the blonde's head. He'd never met her, because Chase hadn't met this girl, before.  
  
 _So, take that, Lian!_   
  
"Hello, welcome to 'The Reader's Nook'. How can I help you?"  
  
  


Chase jumped as the feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. He straightened up from his position of leaning against a bookshelf. He quickly straightened his crimson zip-up jacket and turned around. To his surprise, it was not the brunette girl that he had seen, the previous day. Instead, he saw a young woman with elbow-length wavy red hair, standing at the front counter of the bookstore.  
  
  
She was tall, probably around 5'10". She had fair, freckled skin. Her red hair had auburn streaks and was wavy. The long locks were loose and around her shoulders. Slight layers floated in a very pretty manner and framed her grey-green eyes. After a quick survey of her outfit, Chase saw that she wore dark skinny jeans and what he thought was called a turtleneck. The color of the shirt was a light blue, although he wasn't certain that he was correct in assuming that that was the actual name of the color. He was sure that there was a different name that was used.

  
 _What do girls call that color?_ He pondered, distractedly. _When a color is light and soft, or whatever? Panem? No, wait— pastel, right?_

  
The woman cleared her throat; bringing the blonde man back to reality.  
  
  
"Hello, Jane, isn't it?" he asked, recognizing her from the times he'd seen her at gatherings.

She bowed her head as a sign of respect. "Yes, Beta McGinnia," she responded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Just call me Chase," he winked. " _Beta McGinnia_ makes me sound old. I don't know about you, but I like to think that my skin looks nice and young."  
  
  
Jane did a double-take; tilting her head in confusion. "Whatever you say, Chase."

The blond man sniffed the air, finally catching the mixed scent she carried. "You have a mate?" He asked.

She nodded, smiling a little. "Yes, he's one of the warriors in the pack."

  
  
After a few moments' pause, Jane looked up at the Beta. "What can I help you with, Chase?"

Right. He was here for a reason.  
  
"I need to find out some information for something. But I need you to keep it a secret. Can I trust you?"

The redhead nodded, slowly.  
  
  
"Okay," The Beta began. "This might seem off-topic, but it's important. What's your co-worker's name?"  
  
Jane gave a start; she was obviously not expecting that question. "You mean Morgan? The brunette? With green eyes?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Are you looking for her?" She asked. "It's her day off, today, so she's not here."  
  
After processing the information, Chase smiled. "That actually works better for me. Has Morgan been in contact with any werewolves?"  
  
Jane frowned. "She doesn't know of us. And I don't think that she personally knows many--other than myself and my mate, at least."  
  
  
Then why did she smell familiar? It had to be another wolf's scent that he'd smelt on her. _This is so frustrating._  
  
  
"What about family? Any wolf relatives?" The man said, folding his arms.

"She doesn't have any family. They died a couple years back. It's one of the reasons that she moved to a different part of town. And, as far as I know, they were all human."  
  
  
Chase could practically hear his wolf, Lian, growling at him. _There must be something I'm missing._ He thought. Chase started to walk around, feeling antsy from standing still for so long. He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost interest in this subject. Darn his fleeting motivation.

"Any boyfriends? Were any of them wolves?"  
  
Jane shook her head. "Her last boyfriend was in high school. And—from what I heard from her—he was tiny and a total dweeb. So, nope. No werewolf associates."

  
 _Hehe. Dweeb._ His mind wandered, off-topic. _What a funny word._ _Seems like you could say it a million times and never get tired of it. Like marshmallows._ _Marshmallows. Marshmallows. Marshmallows. Mar—_

  
Jane fixed the Beta with a confused stare. "Whatcha thinking about?" she asked.

"Um, _important things_. I'm trying to gather all this information." Chase said, quickly. He moved around, a little faster, hoping that walking would help burn off the extra energy and fleeting attention span that he was known for. "Are you sure that's everything?"  
  
The young woman put her hands on her hips. _Uh oh.  
_  
  
"Why do you want all of this information, anyway?" She asked, getting defensive. "Is Mo on the run, or something? 'Cause if so, I'm going with her."

"What—what? No!" Chase choked on a laugh. "No, it's not that! I'm just curious about something that happened yesterday."  
  
  
Jane's brows furrowed in confusion. She frowned and put a hand on her forehead, obviously thinking hard. The redhead looked like she was running through every possibility that she could think of. Chase awkwardly shifted his stance, still feeling slightly hyper. To his surprise, Jane opened her eyes, quickly, and snapped her gaze to fixate on him. 

She leaned closer to try and examine his face. "You recognized her scent, didn't you?"  
  
 _Insert record scratch here._

  
"Wait, what?" Chase asked. "How did you know?"  
  
She took a breath and looked around the bookstore. "I've read most of these books, you know," she began. She took a breath and pushed back from the counter, walking in a adjacent direction. "Including," she called as she walked to her destination. "The ones in storage."  
  
Chase watched as she made her way to the back room, leaving him to ponder her meaning. Moments later, she walked back out, holding a heavy old-looking book in her hands. She handed it over to him, carefully.  
  
  
"I think this book has what you're looking for." She said, lowering her gaze.  
  
Chase looked at the title. "'A History of Lycanthropy'?" The man read the cover, dubiously. "Why would I need this? I'm a werewolf; I already know all this stuff!"  
  
Jane frowned. "Not everything," she said. "You only know the basics--what's been used to sum up our lives. But you don't know that specifics," she assured him. At his expression of slight disgust and aversion, she rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to read the whole book, then at least read the chapter on 'Mates'."

"Can't you just _tell_ me what it is?" The Beta scoffed and held up the book, in barely masked annoyance.

The redheaded woman shook her head, looking serious. "I don't remember everything, only bits of it. Plus, this was what you wanted to find out, right? It's your job, not mine. You need to read it, yourself."  
  
Chase mentally cursed. _I hate reading._ Next thing Chase knew, Jane was pushing him out of the store.  
  
  
  
"We hope you've had satisfactory service, here at 'Reader's Nook'. I'm afraid that we're closing, now. Thank you for your time. Have a nice day!" She called as she shut the door behind the blonde man.  
  
 _Wow, rude much?_  
  
"'Satisfactory service,' my butt," Chase sassily mumbled under his breath. "I should change my name to Karen so that I can complain about it and leave a bad review, online. That'll teach her a lesson."  
  
  
He glanced at the book he held in his hands. _Welp._  
  
He hopped into his red Mustang, shutting the door, carefully behind himself. "Hi, Baby," The Beta crooned and ran his hands over the dashboard. "Did you miss me?" He turned the key in the ignition and listened to the hum of the engine.  
  
As Chase pulled away from the bookstore, he couldn't help but glance at the thick book on the passenger's seat.  
  
 _What was so important about this that Jane couldn't tell me, herself?_ Chase couldn't help feeling annoyed. _Seriously, she couldn't have even given me a hint?!_ The blonde man sighed. 

Chase hated reading. But he needed answers.


	7. Chapter 5

**Morgan**

_"Neeeeeever gonna get it, never gonna get it. Neeeeeever gonna get it~"_

Morgan spun around to the sound of the Bellas, placing a hand dramatically on her forehead—acting out the song. She grabbed the toilet scrubber and used it as a microphone substitute.

_"Woah, woah, woah, wooooooooah~"_

She slid down the hallway in her small apartment, cleaning supplies in hand and singing along to her playlist.

_"Neeeeever gonna get it, never gonna get it~" she continued. "Neeeeever gon—oh!"_

She blushed and took a look at her particular makeshift microphone.

"Umm, sorry." She apologized to the toilet scrubber and placed it back in the bucket of cleaning supplies.

Embarrassed, but glad no one was there to witness how weird she was, Morgan resumed the task of cleaning her apartment.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Mo mainly just had to empty the trash can full of junk food wrappers, check on her Nutella supply, wash a mountain of laundry, do a basic tidy of all 3 small rooms, and make sure that surfaces were sanitary. In fact, she was nearly finished. If only she would just stop dancing around in her pajamas and singing into the cleaning supplies—she could work on the bathroom sink and be done.

At last, she completed the simple task and trudged into the mini kitchen, shoving the tub of cleaning supplies into a cabinet and closing it with a sense of finality.

Morgan took a moment to survey her outfit.

Yep—bright purple leggings, a Harry Potter T-shirt, and a singular cupcake-patterned sock was a very interesting fashion statement. Complete with a messy ponytail and not a trace of makeup.

 _I can see it now,_ Mo thought, sarcastically. _Front page of Vogue: Dive into the secrets behind Morgan Gray's 'Lady Lazy' fashion line! Oversized T-shirts! Leggings galore! All socks are sold individually so you can always have them mismatched!_

She snorted at her internal dialogue. Wow, she really cracked herself up, sometimes.

"Don't look at me like that," she addressed the potted plant, to her left. "You know you're jealous."

With that, she walked off to her bedroom, which doubled as a TV room since the apartment was so small.

The room was small, but good enough for a struggling college student. There was nothing broken, or anything. The single twin bed was adorned by a minimalistic bedspread with pink accent pillows. The bedside table; laden to the brim with books and printed quotes. The walls were a light gray color and were decorated by the pictures on the walls. Some of the photos were framed, others were taped, and the rest were printed on mini canvases.

If another person came into the room, they would have thought it odd how the room seemed to have a theme, but that it was thrown off by the diversity in the types of pictures. But none of that mattered to the brunette girl.

Not to go all 'My Little Pony' on everyone, but to Morgan, the room's theme was 'friendship.' All the pictures were of her friend group; Tyler, Kaylie, Jenna, Matt, and Jane were the ones that occurred in the photos the most.

There was one frame, in particular, that was a group photo. They'd taken it while visiting Mount Rushmore—the landmark was only a 5-hour drive away.

In this particular one, Kaylie's jaw-length hair was a bright strawberry red. She was always so obsessed with dying it all sorts of colors. Her toned tan arm was stretched up and out of the frame—she was the one who had taken the picture. From that vantage-point, one could see Kaylie had been wearing her favorite lime-green short-legged overalls and her cream-colored fedora. Her makeup was also on full-view in the photo—all natural, with the exception of her flawless Egyptian-style eyeliner around her aquamarine eyes.

Matt was by far the nerdiest of the group—with his large glasses, fluffy blonde hair, slight frame, and his love for Star Wars and mathematics. In the picture, he was to the left of Kaylie and was wearing his favorite science pun shirt. He had a baby face; he was constantly getting mistaken for a 16-year old, rather than the 'mature' 22 year-old that he was. Part of the reason that he looked so young—in Morgan's opinion, anyway—was that he had big, brown eyes. They were so wide and expressive that he looked like a puppy. The picture was taken right as he was laughing and a gust of wind ruffled his blonde locks.

Jenna and Tyler were inseparable, no matter how much they squabbled. Even in this picture, the two of them had their arms around each other and were sticking out their tongues. The siblings shared their mocha skin tone and curly dark hair. Their hair was always impeccable, even when it was messy—which it was, that day. It always seemed to fall in chocolate tendrils with honey-colored highlights. They always looked like supermodels, thanks to their awesome genetics. Ty's eyes, were an interesting and mysterious gray—unlike his sister's, whose were an expressive honey-brown.

Morgan, herself, was in the top-right section of the picture. The event had been a year previous—before she had cut her hair to her shoulders. So, instead, caramel-brown hair was in a very long and flowy ponytail. The wind blew strands of her ponytail across her face, but she'd brushed them aside. Her muddy-green eyes were alight in excitement as she smiled her best, for Kaylie's camera. Mo wore a casual lavender romper; made of a soft cotton. It looked very comfortable and there were slight ripples caused by the wind. Excluding the breeze, the only other hint that wrinkled the purple fabric of the romper was her closest friend's hand around her waist.

Jane was in the center of the frame; one arm slung on Matt's shoulder and the other on Morgan's waist. Her friend had her own arm hugging Jane closer into the picture. The redheaded young woman had her long wavy hair in a high ponytail. Loose strands from it were floating, lazily, in the breeze. And when the sun caught light on them, they seemed to glow a healthy amber color. Her gray-green eyes were closed as she'd just thrown her head back in a delighted laugh. She'd worn a turquoise sleeveless turtleneck and had her sunglasses perched on the top of her head. She really was the life of the party.

Mo peeled her eyes away from the picture on her wall. The brunette girl flung herself onto the bed and hugged the cream-colored sheets. Moments later, she flipped over and fumbled around for the remote to the television.

"Where is the wand of numbers?" she mumbled under her breath. At last, she felt her fingers graze over the plastic rectangular device.

"Aha!" She triumphantly withdrew the remote from under her bed and flicked on the screen.

After what felt like eons, she finally found a worthwhile movie to watch. Morgan grabbed as many snacks as she could carry and stashed them all on her bed. This consisted of a half-eaten package of Red Vines, M&M's, Cheez-its, and a bowl of leftover marshmallow-popcorn from when she and Jane had a 'Pride and Prejudice' movie marathon.

_—ou can't trap Justice. It's an idea, a belief!_ went the television.

 _Even the most heartfelt of beliefs can be corroded over time_. Megamind said, walking dramatically around in his evil lair.

"Justice is a non-corrosive metal," Morgan murmured, ahead of the dialogue. She munched on a Red Vine, eyes trained on the screen.

_Justice is a non-corrosive metal._ Metroman said, hands on hips as he stared at the projection of his 'nemesis.'

_Well, metals can be melted by the heat of revAnge!_

_It's revEnge, and it's best served cold!_

_But it can easily be reheated—in the Microwave of Evil!!!_ Morgan mouthed along to Megamind's hilarious logic and dialogue.

 _Well I think your warranty is about to expire._ She chomped on an M&M while Metroman held up a fist, mimicking a punch.

_Maybe I got an extended warranty!_

_Well I—_

"—Ugh," The brunette said along to the dialogue of Roxanne Ritchie. "Girls, girls, you're both pretty. Can I go home, now?!"

_Of course! That is...if Metroman—_

There was a slight movement outside of her window.

The woman snapped her head to the side, both curious and slightly nervous. When the movement didn't return, she shrugged off her nerves and turned her attention to the screen in time to see Megamind yell _"Fire!!"_

Morgan tied her shoulder-length hair in a low ponytail and ate another handful of M&Ms. She chuckled, lightly, as Minion told Megamind that the Death Ray wasn't ready because the Sun was still warming up.

_Warming up?!! The Sun is warming up?!!_ The alien exclaimed, looking aghast at his sidekick.

_Just a liiiiiiittle bit more..._ Minion assured, watching his monitor. _Aaaaand_ _a tippy-tap, tip-tap more, and....._

There it was, again. The movement outside of her frosted-glass window. And this time, it was accompanied by the snap of a dead branch.

Mo snapped her head to the side, eyes wide. She felt her heart beat hard in her chest as she froze with terror. After a few moments, she had calmed herself down. She'd always dealt with anxiety; always assuming the worst. But there was no way that there was a kidnapper or killer stalking her, or some sort of monster. And even if there was a possibility that it was a burglar, what would they take? Her Nutella? The ramen packets in the cupboard? Or her oversized MHA hoodie? Tch—it was laughable.

Still, that didn't change the fact that there was something or someone outside of her window.

Pausing the movie, Morgan slowly got off of her bed and slid her feet into the first pair of shoes she could find. She quietly crept to the kitchen and grabbed the frying pan on the stove. She held it up as she stalked to the front door and looked through the peephole.

Hey! If it was good enough for Rapunzel, then it was good enough for her.

Her view from the hole was very limited. So, with a nervous gulp, she unlocked the door and peeked outside.

It wasn't like she lived in the middle of nowhere. She lived in a small, ground floor rental house. It was actually a very nice location and predicament, for being so cheap. But the landowner was a nice man who'd known Morgan even before her parents had died in the wreck—he took pity on her. The house was in a good neighborhood where no one bothered each other. There was a park around on the other corner of the street and sometimes kids would scooter along the sidewalk or play on the swings.

The small property that she lived in even had a backyard, if you could call it that. It was very small, but it fit Morgan's basic needs; soft grass, a handful of mini trees, and a mini bush near the front window of the house. Only, now, she was thinking that maybe adding a fence would have been a good idea. It would keep out squirrels and other animals. And, possibly in this case, people. But she wasn't even sure if the intruder was a person. It could have been another bird, for all she knew. So there was no reason for her to get worked up about it.

Mo walked around the side of the house as stealthily as she could. As she neared the window where she'd seen the shadow and heard the branch snap, she looked around for the perpetrator. But it didn't seem like anyone was there. Frowning slightly, she squatted down at the ground to search for prints.

At last, she found a round-like indentation in the mud. It was rather large, and looked familiar, but Morgan couldn't place she'd seen it.

"As always, Watson," the brunette murmured to herself. "You _see_ , but you do not _observe._ " She tapped her finger to her rosy lips in puzzlement. "What am I missing?!" She asked, rhetorically.

The sudden snap of a branch in the quiet air made her jump and turn around as she tried to stifle her shriek of surprise. Upon seeing what was before her, she exhaled, sat on the ground, and leaned against the wall in relief. Standing about fifteen yards away—on the edge of the park—wasn't a person, at all. Just a large dog.

She couldn't see it very well from that distance, but she was sure that it had a long snout and fluffy, pointed ears. It's red-brown fur was coarse-looking and very straight. The canine's hackles were raised in defense and it's head was extended low, in front of the rest of it—sniffing the ground. It didn't look threatening at all, just curious.

"Oh!" Mo let out a breathy laugh. "A dog! _Of course_ that's what made the prints!"

She switched her position on the ground, a little, so that she wasn't depending on the wall, to much. She shifted to her knees and sat back on the balls of her feet.

"Here, puppy!" Morgan said in as light of a tone as she could and patted her lap—trying to look appealing. "Come 'ere! Come here, puppy!"

About a minute passed by before the dog took a hesitant step forward, sniffing the air. It seemed to have deemed the area as safe because it took several paces forward, walking about five more yards to cross the street and near the beckoning brunette. Suddenly, the dog froze and gave the air another sniff. This time, it looked wary about something.

"What's the matter, Pongo?" Morgan asked, softly, calling it by the name of the main dog from '101 Dalmatians.'

'Pongo' sniffed once more. Something must have upset him, because he was quickly backing away and growling. He quickly turned-tail and bolted off past the park, leaving a stunned Morgan in the distance.

"Well," she murmured, eyes wide. "That was....interesting."

The brunette stood up and dusted off her purple leggings. She grabbed the pan by its handle. She spun it around her finger as she walked back around the small building, imitating Rapunzel.

"Ha! 'Too weak to handle myself, out there', huh, Mother?" She said, quoting the blonde's dialogue from the movie, 'Tangled'. She chuckled. "Well, tell that to my frying pan." She mimicked accidentally hitting the side of her head with said frying pan.

Unfortunately for her, she'd forgotten that the pan was still in motion from her spinning it, and it actually did bump the her cheek bone. Morgan abruptly dropped the frying pan into the nearby grass and clutched her check, tenderly. She let out a grunt of pain.

"Oh, that's gonna bruise," she groaned. "Dang it! This is the third time this month!"


	8. Chapter 6

**Roy**

It was nearly dusk when Roy was officially done with his Gamma duties, for the day. He swept the files into a neat pile to the right, top corner of his dark-wooded desk. He stood up from the deep leather chair, knuckles cracking as he stretched his arms. The tall man raked a hand through his dark-chocolate tresses. He collected his gray jacket from the back of his office chair, glancing around the room as he did so. Satisfied that there was nothing left to do, he turned off the lights and the appliances. He closed the heavy dark-wooded doors, careful to not scratch them as he did so.  
  
The crunch of gravel sounded as he walked from his office to the direction of the Pack House. Jason would be done with his Alpha duties and Chase would probably be stuffing his face with cereal, so he figured he'd join them instead of going home. His own house was a good size; two floors, two bathrooms, three bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. But sometimes it was a little too big. Especially when he was coming home after a late night and the halls were so empty and cold, with the lights off. The cold and empty air always reminded him of his past. But he didn't like to talk about it. Regardless, he made his way towards the Pack House.  
  
  
The Pack House was located where their territory began, at the base of the nearby mountain. It was placed in the front for several reasons, but the main one was that it was a great vantage point. It was great for spotting oncoming danger. The issue, however, was that it was also easy to spot, if you knew where to look, so it was more susceptible to possible dangers. That was why only the Alphas, guests, and other chosen pack members lived in the Pack House; so the Alphas could protect the people, as they were the only ones with the correct defenses. Sometimes Pack Houses were attacked by neighboring packs. But it was so rare because Alphas were so tough, and almost always had their second and third-in-commands with them, as well as added help of those living in the buildings and nearby pack village.

  
Roy neared his own pack's Pack House. The deep wood paneling gave it the feel of a cabin, in the middle of the woods—which it practically was, although it was much larger that a mere camping cabin. There were two floors and an attic, to start with. And many rooms and a large yard surrounding it.  
  
The first floor was the main living space. It had a large living room with two long couches and a television, a spacious kitchen, an expanded dining room, the Alpha's office, a conference room for inter-pack meetings, and an extra room for storage. The second floor was the more personable space. It consisted of at least four nicely-sized bathrooms, eight bedrooms with expansive closets, and a smaller living room where two smaller and more comfortable couches sat along with a coffee table and TV.  
  
The outside of the house was normal, enough. Warm dark-brown wooden paneling, wide windows, lights, security cameras, and such. The Pack House was situated on the edge of the mountain—high enough to be slightly elevated and to see the neighboring town across the woodlands. There were many coniferous trees and plentiful amounts of shrubs and grass. Wild animals roamed through the woods—never getting too close to the pack for fear of being chased and eaten.  
  


"Gamma Talonn?"  
  
Roy turned at the boy's young voice to see one of the warriors he trained, standing, awkwardly.  
  
"What is it, Ivan?" Roy asked, not unkindly.  
  


Ivan Meeke was what many would have called a 'charity case.' He'd had a rough life, to tell the truth. His parents had died in an attack from rogues, leaving Ivan and his four younger siblings, orphans. After they'd grieved, they were put up for adoption. His siblings were taken in, quickly, but it was hard to find someone to take care of the redheaded teen boy. At the age of thirteen, Ivan had a gimpy leg—it had been injured during the rogue attack that had killed his parents. It led the other wolves viewed as a weakness and many shut their doors to him.   
  
But Roy, who always had a soft spot in his heart for kids and teenagers, was the one who found Ivan a place to call home. He was finally with a family who'd care for him. And there he was, three years later, one of the rising warriors under Roy's training.   
  


The boy's pale blue eyes shone by the outside lights of the Pack House. He rubbed the back of his freckled neck and finally spoke.  
  
"I—uh—I wanted to ask a favor."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be willing to give me extra lessons, in combat training. Specifically in 'agility.'"  
  
"Why do you need this?" The brunette man asked. He wasn't against giving lessons to the sixteen year-old boy, but he knew that there was a different motivation behind his asking.  
  
"I—I found my mate," Ivan's voice hushed at the end of his sentence.   
  


With the help of his werewolf hearing, the Gamma just barely caught it. He felt his wolf, Cliffe, stir in the back of his mind. He desperately pushed his wolf out of his mind and focused on the skinny boy in front of him,

  
"Congratulations," Roy said. His voice felt strangely monotone, like a robot's.   
  
"Thanks," Ivan smiled, brightly, full of happiness. But his happiness was short-lived; the smile vanished and he lowered his head, slightly.   
  
"What's wrong?" Roy asked, concerned for the blue-eyed boy.  
  
"Well, my mate, Clarissa, loves me back. But," Ivan paused, biting his lip in worry. "But, her dad doesn't seem to be happy about the match. He hasn't said anything," he assured the brown-haired man. "But I have a feeling that he thinks I'm not worthy of her."  
  
"And you want to prove your worth by growing stronger and more essential to the pack." Roy finally understood.   
  
"Yes." Ivan's thin, weary face, relaxed into a slow smile. "So, will you give me those extra training sessions?"  
  
Roy sighed.  
  
  
"Alright, Ivan, I will. But, only if you promise me something."  
  
"I'll do anything."  
  
"Don't tell anyone else about the training sessions. I don't want a flock of boys coming to me to train them harder just so they can impress their future mates."  
  
Before Ivan Meeke could say anything else, Roy walked the rest of the distance to the Pack House.   
  


As he opened the back door, he felt a rush of hot air on his face. The warm-colored recessed lighting on the vaulted ceiling were a welcome sight.   
  
Roy stepped through the hallway, shoes scuffing on the wood-plank floor. He walked past the arches that separated the different rooms and alcoves and entered the main Iiving space. He saw the Alpha, Jason Landon, sprawled on one of the large leather couches. He was focused on the large television mounted on the wall, boredly watching the sports game. Upon the entering of his best friend, Jason lifted his head up and his steel-gray eyes locked on Roy's tired figure. 

  
"Rough day?" He asked.  
  
"Not necessarily," Roy replied and set his jacket on the back of the couch. "It was just a long one. I had to do so much paperwork and rescheduling—I haven't moved much, today. But I don't want to spar-fight now that I'm so drained from sitting at my desk all day."  
  


Jason shifted his position and sat up. He pushed his black hair off his forehead and scooted over on the couch, making room for the tired Gamma.  
  
Roy plopped down on the couch. He leaned back into the cushions and sighed.  
  


"Oh, yeah, that's much better." At last, the brunette turned to his attention to the screen. "Why are we watching football?"  
  
"Because it's what manly men do to relax."  
  
"But you don't care about football."  
  
"You're right," Jason said, tucking his tan hands behind his head. "But I need a way to relax; today was a long day for me, too. I had to help set up organizations, check the pack borders, go into the human town and watch for rogues, and still discuss business with Alpha Trenton; in the pack up North."  
  


The Alpha's hair laid a lot flatter against his head than he normally had it. Jason was one who firmly believed in first making and maintaining impressions—in regards to his appearance and mannerisms. His straight black hair was kept styled with gel. He had it spiked, but not enough to be mistaken for a porcupine; just as long as it didn't lay flat against his head.   
  
Jason was as fit as an Alpha was expected to be—well muscled and tall. He had tan skin and steel-gray eyes. His eye color was so rare that it caused a large stir in the female population wherever he went. Many would expect his eyes to make him seem cold and demeaning, but it wasn't the case. He was a nice guy, and looked it, too. Whenever he met people—pack members or not—he smiled, charmingly, and always presented the side of him that pleased everyone. How he was responsible, loyal, and suave. And he was all of those things.  
  
But those who'd known him since he was a child wouldn't often think of him as suave or as a 'Mr. Cool Guy' person—given that they knew about his obsession with zip-up sweaters, his love for photography, and his dream as a child to be the first astronaut werewolf. Now, at the age of twenty-four, Jason Landon had outgrown that dream, but that didn't stop Chase and Roy from bringing it up, whenever it was possible.  
  


The two men turned their head at the crunch of gravel that sounded from the driveway at the front of the house. They heard the low hum of the Beta's Mustang and heard the click of the gear as he parked it.

"Oh great," Roy said, half-teasing and half-seriously. "Chase is gonna come in here, and boast about how many girls gave him their numbers."

  
They turned to the front door in time to see Chase close it behind him. There was something off about him, though. He looked as he normally did—shaggy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and his teenager-sense-of-fashion. But he seemed preoccupied and he came in with a heavy book in his hand.  
  


"Whatcha got, there?" Jason asked. "Did one of the girls give you a book, instead of their number?"

Chase snapped his gaze to his two best friends on the couch, as if just realizing that they were there. He blinked and then cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, something like that."  
  


Without saying another word, he briskly walked up the staircase, to his left, and out of sight. After his loud footsteps faded away, the Alpha and Gamma finally allowed themselves to react. 

They looked at each other in surprise.  
  


"What was that about?" The black-haired man asked, eyebrows raised.

"Honestly?" Roy shook his head. "I have no idea."


	9. Chapter 7

** Chase **

Chase dragged his feet up the stairs and down the hallway. The walk to his room wasn't a long one, but he still resented it. Rather, he resented anything that made him move, unnecessarily. Most called him lazy, and perhaps they were right, but the Beta preferred the term 'genius.' His philosophy was to do his Pack duties to the best of his abilities.....and then do the bare minimum when it came to anything else.  
  
At last, Chase moved to his left and turned the knob to his wooden door. He entered the room. It was messy, with a few clothes strewn about and food wrappers littering the wood-planked floor, but that was how it was, normally. There may or not have also been a bag of jumbo-marshmallows stuffed in the sock drawer of his dresser. 

  
  
Chase wasn't too fond of the boring blues and grays that Jason liked. He preferred to have brighter colors; oranges, yellows, reds, and the likeness of others. 

The room's walls were an interesting brown-gray, with white baseboards along the walls and the large window facing east. Crimson, orange, and yellow items were a positioned around the room to provide more colorful atmosphere. Orange curtains hung from a warm-brown rod above the wide window. His king-sized bed was comfortable and had a wooden headboard—it was the same warm-brown as the rod and the wooden flooring. A honey-yellow oval rug was at the base of the bed, in front of his ash colored dresser. The bedspread, itself, was mainly cream-white and stripes of orange, yellow, red, and burgundy. As for his pillows.....well...he was very proud of his Lightning McQueen pillowcases.  
  
  


With a huff, Chase McGinnia sat on the edge of the bed, dropping his belongings on the floor as he did so. He leaned back with a sigh and kicked off his shoes. 

Chase sank into the comforter on top of his bed. After a few more moments of staring at the ceiling, the blonde man looked at the book he'd dropped on the floor. Could it really be that important? Would it really solve the mystery?

  
Giving into the impulse, Chase rolled on his side, reached for the thick history book, and brought it up to his bed.

He paused to examine the cover. It looked like something one would expect to be in the opening of a Disney movie. It was a dark green. He was sure that someone, perhaps even his sister, might know the correct name for the color. But, for the time being, he would call it 'whatever color my puke would be if I ate pine needles.'   
  
The title was emblazoned in fancy-schmancy gold lettering. And, of course, there was the image of a wolf howling at the moon in the center of the dust cover.  
  
  
"'A History of Lycanthropy,'" he read aloud. "'By Professor Yobish.' What's so special about you, huh?"

He was just about to pry open the covers when a thought occurred to him.  
 _Wait,_ he thought. _Isn't there a saying about situations like this? 'Curiosity killed the...caterpillar?' Should I be worried?_ He looked back at the book in his hands. _Nah, what more can a little book do besides give me a headache?_  
  
At last, he opened the book, searching for the 'Table of Contents'. He found it and held a finger to the page, bringing it down on the list until he found the 'Mates' section.

"Page three-hundred and ninety-four," he murmured to himself as he searched for the location. He found the page and leaned back against the headboard of his bed, getting comfortable.

  
  
_Chapter 37: Mates_

_A mated pair, in it's simplest definition, is the equivalent to 'soulmates.' Mated pairs are made up of one werewolf and a human or another werewolf._

_Mates are selected by the Moon Goddess, herself. It is within her powers to determine who is the perfect half to each wolf. The Goddess has taken great care to choose the pairs; all mates have been destined since before time. They are the closest things on Earth to what the humans refer to as 'soulmates.'_

_A werewolf having a human mate is a tad harder than having another werewolf as their mate._ _This is because of the lack of knowledge, they can't protect themselves, and the possible chance of rejection from the human. When a werewolf has a human mate, it is crucial to determine how to reveal one's werewolf genes. The preferred method is to slowly introduce them into the werewolf world, such as meeting other werewolves, but not to tell them that they are wolves._ _Later, after the relationship is going smoothly, it is best to slowly ease them into the possibility of werewolves and then eventually say the truth and talk it over._

_  
_Chase groaned and threw his head back against his Lightning McQueen pillows. He pulled at his blonde hair in exasperation. Feeling restless, he rolled off the bed and strolled across the room. He pulled open the bottom drawer and withdrew the concealed contents. Bag of marshmallows in hand, Chase resumed his place on the mattress.

"How much longer?" He whined before continuing to read. _  
_ _  
_ _  
_

_In regards to the mating process with both a werewolf and a human, their offspring would vary between genetics. When two werewolves have children, it is guaranteed that all of them will be full-blooded werewolves. Whereas when a werewolf and a human produce kids, the first child will be human and the rest will vary between being humans or werewolves. One can determine if their child is a human or werewolf at the age of eight, when they start developing heightened senses and are aware of the presence of their own wolf in their mind._

_Once a wolf finds their mate, they are advised to accept them. Werewolves and their wolves are stronger with their mate. If a werewolf rejects their mate, their wolf can go into a depressed state and lash out. This can affect both the werewolf who rejected their mate, and the mate, themselves. If they both are accepted, they can complete the mating process at whatever pace they would prefer. This is because, contrary to the popular belief, the Moon Goddess does not wish to rush the mating process. She knows how delicate some relationships might be if tampered with._ _  
_ _  
_ _Mates find each other after they have both reached or passed the age of sixteen. Since werewolves start shifting when they are twelve, this means that four years after their first shift (when they are sixteen and of mating age,) they will have an even more heightened sense of smell. This is to help locate or detect their mates. Wolves have reported that, upon finding their mate, they followed scents that they had found attractive to their mate. These scents are not just something that smells 'nice.' Instead, they are described as tantalizing and something that could not be ignored._

_Another characteistic that has been reported is that upon finding one's mate is that their friends might smell their mate, too. This generally happens only to wolves in the hierarchy (Alphas, Betas, and Gammas). Their closest friends can smell their Gamma/Beta/Alpha scents on their mates, even if they have not met._

_Pack acceptance ceremonies are suggested after finding a mate. This helps bond the mated pairs and draw them together. Other activities might inclu—_

Chase shut the book. The pages closed with a satisfying _snap_.  
  
  
His position on his bed was a frozen state of shock. Even his mouth was open, giving a perfect view of the half-devoured marshmallow to the ghost in his room. 

He'd never made contact with said ghost, so he wasn't entirely sure it was there, but that didn't stop him from hoping. It was kind of lonely in his room and he wouldn't mind having a friend. He'd always liked the idea of having a ghost buddy. Maybe, if there really was a ghost, they could go around pranking his friends. But that wasn't the point.

The source of his shock was the little bit of information that he had just read. Friends can smell each other's mates. Chase had found his answer.

  
  
 _Ladies and gentleman, and the Oscar for...._ Chase hesitated, trying to come up with a word. At last, he smirked and finished his mental statement. _ Smartness goes to....me. _

He tossed the book onto the bed with a sigh of relief. The blonde man stretched his hands behind his head and yawned. _Now,_ he thought. _Just gotta figure out whose mate Morgan is; Roy's or Jason's?_  
 _  
_

He looked to his left at the clock on his bedside table and calculated how long he'd been reading. Surely, it was long enough to give him a headache. He blanched at the time, however, and rubbed his eyes. To say that he was surprised would have been an understatement.

" _Five hours?!_ " He exclaimed, falling against the pillows, dramatically. "I've been reading half a chapter for FIVE HOURS?!!"


	10. Chapter 8

** Morgan **

"Okay, wait wait wait, I've got one," Jane said, waving her hands to silence her friend as she did so.

Morgan smiled and rested her chin in her hands. She leaned forward. "Go on, then."

The redhead cleared her throat and cleared her face. A moment later, a dreamy look had eased its way onto her features. Faux sadness filled her eyes and colored her voice as she said the word, "Always."

Morgan pouted and shook her head. "That's an easy one! 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,' in Snape's memories." She cited, slightly bored. "You just had to pick a sad one, didn't you?"

Jane raised her hands in a defensive manner. "Don't look at me like that, you're the one who wanted to play this game."

"When I suggested this, I was not planning on guessing any sad references or quotes."

"Whatever, girlie," Jane used her fingers to comb her long wavy hair into a ponytail. "Anyways, it's your turn." 

Without missing a beat, Morgan recited the first reference that popped into her head. "'Much too good for children.'" She mimicked speaking with her mouth full.

Her redheaded friend threw her head back in laughter. "I thought you said 'no easy ones,'" she said, accusingly. 

"Okay, so I'm a hypocrite," Mo tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears. "You still haven't answered it, by the way."

"'Matilda,'" Jane answered, swiftly. "The movie, Mrs. Trunchbull says it while eating chocolate in front of her niece's face."

"Bingo!"

"Alright, my turn, again." Jane drummed her thin fingers on her chin, thinking hard. "Got it! 'Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon—!'" She had adopted a British accent.

"Are all your quotes gonna be from 'Harry Potter?'"

"Hey! Don't hate on my Potterheadedness. I am a Gryffindor and a member of the Weasley clan, after all." She daintily patted her ginger hair to convey her message.

"Don't do me dirty, like that. I love the Wizarding World, too. Fred and George are MY definition of 'Weasley is our King.' But I do love me some Draco Malfoy."

"Of course you would, you traitor."

"Whoa," Morgan chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but the 'traitor' term is not one to describe me."

"You're right, that's Dolores Umbridge."

"No, it's Grace Blackthorn."

"I'm sorry, who?" Jane cocked her head in question.

"Sorry, it's a different fandom. And also, 'traitor' isn't something that I'd call Umbridge. I think 'Devil Reincarnated' or 'Hell Royalty' would suffice, right?"

"How very Slytherin of you."

"Thank you, I try."

The sound of the front doorbell startled the girls, making them flinch in surprise and guilt. They had left the front desk unattended, after all. They scrambled up from their cross-legged positions on the floor in the storage room, rubbing their backs from their bad posture.

"Oh, Edith's gonna kill us when she realizes we left the desk." Morgan moaned in horror.

"We were bored!" Jane defended and threw her hands in the air. "Besides, who would come to the bookstore on a Tuesday, of all days?!"

The ringing of the service bell on the front desk made the girls cringe.

"Apparently some psychopath," the brunette murmured to her friend and went leave the room. Calling over her shoulder as she did so, "I'll take care of it!"

She hurried down the hallway and made her way to the front desk, pulling her hair into a low ponytail so that it'd be off her shoulders.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I was bus--Oh! It's you!" She smiled in greeting at the blonde man. 

"Hi, Morgan," Chase said, politely, looking around as he did. "Umm, g-good day?"

The brown-haired girl shrugged. "It's been okay. What brings you here?"

Chase seemed preoccupied, again. Mo couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more put-together, though. He was less fidgety, at least. Instead, he kept looking slightly behind him at the door.

"I-I was hoping you could help me get my friends into reading. They, um, they aren't big reading fans and....and I want them to join my...book club." He finished, lamely. 

Morgan was positive that this wasn't the real reason that he was here, but she chose not to verbalize her thoughts. Instead, she nodded. "Of course, I'd love to help."

"Great." Chase looked relieved. He turned to gaze over his shoulder at the front door of the bookstore. "I texted my friends to come, so they should be here any minute."

"Alright."

Awkward silence filled the room like a thick fog. Morgan hummed a little tune as she stared at the corner of the desk.

 _Oh, would you look at that,_ she distracted herself. _There's a scratch on this table. How....interesting._ She cleared her throat and looked elsewhere. _Oh look, a speck of dust. Hello, little Whos of Whoville._

Out of the side of her eye, she could see the blonde man entertain himself with a piece of pocket lint. 

At long last, Chase perked up and faced the brunette, announcing that his friends had just arrived. Mo thought it was a little odd how he knew. Perhaps he had an earpiece that read him his texts. It was the only explanation; that or he was a telepath. 

Either way, it didn't matter because the front bell rang, just then. The door was pushed open and in walked two figures. And _'Oh Mylanta'_ these guys were good-looking. Mo could almost swear that she stumbled as soon as they walked in. If these were Chase's friends then she'd definitely wouldn't mind him bringing them to the 'Reader's Nook'. 

The man who walked in first was the tallest. He had tan skin, gray eyes, and straight black hair that was styled with gel. He wore a navy button-up with khakis and vans. He had a kind smile when he met Morgan's eyes after walking through the door. Immediately after his greeting, he looked to Chase with a question look, as if to ask why he was there. Morgan didn't catch the blonde man's response, however, because her eyes seemed only reserved for the second man.

The man who had captured her attention was tall, compared to the 5'4" brunette girl. Mo guessed he was probably around 5'11", give or take a couple inches. His body shape wasn't anything out of the ordinary, with his wide shoulders and smaller waist and hips creating the iconic 'triangle' body type. He was leanly muscled--something that she appreciated because incredibly muscled men made her uncomfortable. He had an impeccable sense of fashion, too. He donned slim dark blue Levi's on his narrow hips and wore clean athletic shoes. His V-neck navy blue shirt was seemingly made of cotton and was a solid color. The sleeves were pushed up a little and hit the middle of his well-muscled forearms. Yes, he had a very impressive taste in clothing. The man even wore a sensible silver watch with leather straps. 

The handsome man was Caucasian and had slight freckles on his cheeks and nose. His rich brown hair was comparable to milk chocolate--Morgan's favorite. It was styled in a very attractive way that suited him very well. It looked like he had just run his finger through his hair with gel, combing it back but still leaving some volume to work with. And his eyes---oh _wow,_ his eyes. 

Morgan felt that she could confidently say that they made her insides turn to butterflies. And even then, those butterflies had butterflies in their bellies. Wait--did that mean that the butterflies were pregnant? Or....?

Regardless, the man's eyes were absolutely mesmerizing. They were almond-shaped and were nicely sized. Naturally long and healthy lashes were lined along the lid. The brown-haired girl couldn't help but be a tiny bit jealous of his natural eyelashes. 

His irises were what drew Morgan's attention the most. They were brown, like many peoples' eyes were. But his were different than most people. The color of brown was a slightly richer color of his hair, if that was even possible. The color was slightly darker near the pupil. What was the most intriguing part of his brown orbs was the rim of color on the edge. It was near a warmer shade of brown mixed with a light nickel color---copper might be another word to describe it. That is, if the metal was less shiny--it was more the color that she meant. 

The reflection of the outside world danced in his warm eyes. The irises were large and round, giving him a puppy-eyed look. Even now, they projected a feeling of wonder and disbelief. And....reserve? Possibly even fear? 

_What could he be afraid of?_ was the last thought that ran through Morgan's head before she saw his eyes practically grow cold and shut her out. It was then that Morgan noticed his body language.

He almost seemed frozen in place. His body was tense and cautious. Even the way he held his arms and puffed out his chest, slightly, proved to show that he was wary and went out on the defensive line. He had quickly moved to grip the watch on his left wrist. The move seemed to be a coping mechanism. But what would have triggered it?

When Morgan looked back at the brunette man's eyes, she was startled by the torn look. She could only imagine what emotions he must have been going through; confusion, surprise, hope, doubt, fear, and even anger were just a few of the possibilities. Mo desperately felt the strange urge to help him. But she felt so helpless, herself. She didn't even know this man! How could she help him if she didn't even know what had caused these surges of emotion?!

She jolted in surprise when the man moved. He took a step towards where she stood at the front desk. Morgan was even surprised at her own body's reaction, like she was awaiting for the verdict of a trial or test. She watched as the handsome man ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. It was obviously an action that he was familiar with and was another coping mechanism to alleviate stress.

The woman with brown hair waited with baited breath as he met her eyes with his own. She watched in surprise as his eyes softened. As soon as it had happened, though, he'd furrowed his brow. Whatever internal battle he was dealing with, he obviously was having second thoughts.

Unable to take the tension anymore, Morgan spoke. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but do you need anything? You don't look so well." She just wanted to help but she had no idea how to. Mo hated feeling helpless.

The man abruptly shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke.

"I," he said in a rich voice that made the butterflies rekindle in the brunette girl's stomach. He began, again. "I, Roy Talonn, reje--!! Mph!" 

Before he could get the rest of the words, Chase and the black-haired man had covered his mouth and rushed him out of the store with almost inhuman speed. 

Several seconds too late, Morgan finally registered what happened. She'd completely forgotten about Chase and the other man. How long had she been there, staring at the handsome man? What was it that he'd been trying to say? And even more importantly, why had he been rushed out so quickly?!


	11. Chapter 9

**Roy**

"He can't possibly be serious." Roy groaned and leant on the side of the car door.

Jason shrugged his shoulders but kept his grip on the wheel steady. 

"I mean," the Alpha said in response. "With Chase, you never really know if he is or not. He jokes way too much for his own good."

The two friends sat in silence for the rest of the drive. Twenty minutes previous, Chase had mind-linked to Roy and Jason to meet him at the bookstore, "The Reader's Nook." Sure, the Gamma was annoyed at his schedule being interrupted, but he was more nervous and wary than anything.

Chase's job as the Fortem Lupus Pack's Beta was self-explanatory. He managed the pack when Jason was unable to or was away. The safety of the pack was his top priority. It was also his job to help take care of pack business and safety strategies. And the final requirement of his position was to keep an ear out for other packs in peril---more commonly known as Packs in Distress (PIDs). This was the reason that Roy was nervous. If Chase called both the Alpha and the Gamma, then it must have been something big. Roy couldn't help but hope that the blonde Beta had called them there for a game of ping-pong or something stupid. It would definitely be a waste of time, but at least it wouldn't be something life-threatening. 

Roy sincerely hoped that that was the case. He was worried that their pack would have to fight others. Sure, his werewolf warriors were exceptionally trained--he'd trained them himself. He knew they could fight. It was the nearby pack village that he worried about, though. Elders, mothers, and young children; they couldn't defend themselves or their loved ones. And so the Gamma prayed that Chase just wanted to brag about his new shoes, or something stupid. Because, if it was something stupid and wasted his time, Roy would feel no remorse in dragging the Beta to the training grounds and having a spar fight for two reasons; to teach his friend not to do that again and to give his warriors a visual lesson on how to perfectly execute a roundhouse kick to the chest.

At last, they pulled up at the address that Chase had given them. Jason shifted the car into 'park' and they observed the building from the outside. It was a small bookstore---probably a community one. The building had gray walls and green accents and was a single story tall. An appealing green sign hung in front of the door. Elegant white lettering proclaimed the small bookstore to be 'The Reader's Nook.'

"How quaint." Roy drawled. The statement got him an elbow in the ribs from his friend. "Ow!" he rubbed his side. "What was that for?"

"Why are you so moody?" Jason asked. "All you seem to do is snap at people and make offensive remarks! You never used to do that, so why are you doing it now?"

Roy groaned, knowing the man was right. 

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm just on edge, right now. I think it has something to do with Cliffe being upset at me."

"Why is he upset?"

"I don't know, man," Roy lied. He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous habit. "Anyway, all this talk about my emotions is making me uncomfortable. Let's just go." He started to open the door.

"Alright," said Jason. He didn't sound the slightest bit convinced, but Roy was glad that his friend had dropped the subject. "But you need to sort out your wolf. An Alpha needs their best warrior to be on top of his game. And besides, as your friend, I just want to be able to talk to you without you snapping at me." 

The man stepped out of the car, locked it, and followed Roy to the direction of the store.

 _Chase,_ Roy felt Jason mind-link to their blonde friend. _We're here._

Seconds later, they reached the front door. Assuming a subconscious defensive stance, Roy entered behind Jason. It was always in his Gamma instincts to protect the Alpha, or to provide back-up. It was this overpowering instinct that distracted him long enough for them to get inside before he finally realized _it_. 

While he was preoccupied with Making sure Jason wasn't exposed to possible dangers, he'd missed the warnings. He'd missed his wolf, Cliffe, stirring in the back of his mind to raise his wolfy head in hope. Roy had missed the feeling of warmth spread through his chest. He missed the tell-tale scent that unconsciously lifted his mood, instantly. He didn't notice them at all. Until he saw her, that is. And by then, it was already too late.

Her eyes were green. They were a clover-like color--muddled with specks of brown and darker shades of green. It was these beautiful orbs that had caused his body to seize up. He couldn't control his muscles, they seemed to be in a permanent 'fight or flight' response but was stuck on the word 'or.' It was like he was in limbo. And all he could do was look at her more, and dig himself an even bigger hole.

She was shorter than he by nearly eight inches, which was a good height difference. She had fair skin and gatherings of freckles on the bridge of her button nose. Her hourglass figure was eased enough to be flattering and appealing, whilst leaving some things to the imagination. She wore a navy blue romper with white pin-stripes as the pattern and a flowy cream short-sleeved sweater over top of the outfit. Her legs were nice and her feet were adorned by cognac sandals.

Her face was heart-shaped--something that most romance writers strived to include in their female main characters. Her eyebrows were a slightly darker brown than her hair and were arched in a way that portrayed intelligence and curiosity. The woman's green eyes were perfectly centered around her nose and were veiled by her thick lashes. Roy couldn't help but notice that she wore makeup--just a little concealer, mascara, and lip gloss. It wasn't a lot by most makeup standards, but he wasn't one to judge. He liked her natural makeup look much better than the models in magazines whose eyebrows seemed painted on, and such. 

Her hair was a light brown, when looked at from a distance. But, as he was much closer and could see much better with his heightened werewolf sight, Roy soon observed that her hair had several tones. The majority of her hair was comparable to caramel or toffee. And there was strands of dark blonde and sometimes sun streaks that looked like natural highlights. Her hair was pulled up into a short ponytail in the back of her head, so it was hard to judge how long it was. He assumed the ends at least reached her shoulders. There was a couple of shorter strands that framed her face, giving the slight impression of side-swept bangs.

There was one thing about her appearance that puzzled him, however. Her mouth was agape in shock. Roy couldn't think of a reason that would cause this beautiful woman to mimic a codfish. So what was it that had caught her off-guard? 

Then, the scent hit him. She smelled like sweets from a bakery, books that were both new and old, and of cinnamon. She gave off whiffs of chocolate and vanilla. But, those weren't the only things Roy could smell. The brown-haired man could smell her curiosity, hope, and surprise. He could smell her intrigue at him.

Something twisted in his gut. And just when he came to the conclusion, himself, his wolf prompted him. _Mate,_ Roy could practically feel Cliffe's excitement and exhilaration. _Mate!_ She was his mate. 

Completely unconscious of his actions, Roy gripped the watch on his left wrist. He twiddled with the leather fastenings as he felt rising panic. 

_No._ He felt stricken. _No, I can't do this._

The Gamma felt the urge to run away. At the same time, he wanted to rush towards this wonderful girl and pull her into his arms.

He had to push the thought away. No, he couldn't do that. He had to get out of there. He couldn't....he couldn't let it happen to her, too. Not after the last time.

Roy felt the need to protect his mate, even from himself. He didn't even know her, but he felt the responsibility of his possible future rise up along with the fears from his past. He couldn't let them touch her. Not this innocent and fragile-looking girl.

Her green eyes were looking at him with concern. He had to act, fast.

Roy took a step forward. He must have startled the woman because she flinched in surprise. Instant guilt rose in his gut. _Great,_ he thought. _I'm already scaring her. I knew this would never work._

He ran a hand through his hair to clear his head. He had to act. _Now._ It was just like ripping off a band-aid. Before he could do anything, however, the woman spoke.

"I'm sorry, sir, but do you need anything?" Her voice was of a middle tone--not high and annoying, and not low and hard to understand. She spoke with directness and politeness, reflecting education and compassion. "You don't look so well."

The Gamma felt his resolve crumble, in that brief moment. All it took was a little kindness and he was already questioning his plan. Roy shook his head, trying to clear it. He should not be this affected by her. They'd barely met, after all. He couldn't let her get close to him. If she did, there might not be a way back.

Roy took a deep breath and met her eyes, holding on to what little resolve he had left. 

"I," he began, trying to recite the official 'words of rejection' that all werewolves were taught in primary school. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Chase and Jason tense. They probably knew what he was up to. He had to act fast. He spoke again, a little faster this time. "I, Roy Talonn, reje--!!"

It was too late. Using his superspeed, Chase had swept across the room and clamped a hand over the Gamma's mouth. The brunette man tried to wrench his friend's hands away from him, but Jason restrained him. 

"Mph!" was all Roy could elicit before his friends forcibly removed him from the bookstore, using their werewolf speed.

His friends didn't stop outside. They just kept going, dragging Roy between them. By the time he had come to his senses, Chase and Jason had thrown the Gamma in the back seat of Jason's car, gotten in, and driven off.

"What was that for?!" Chase whipped his head around from his place in the passenger's seat to glare at Roy. "Why would you want to reject your mate?!!"

In a fit of temper and frustration, Roy punched the back of the passenger seat. The blow was so loud and unexpected that Jason swerved the car for a moment. He quickly gained control of the vehicle, but not before Roy was yelling again.

"Why did you stop me, you idiots?!!" The Gamma growled. 

He made a move to hit the seat, again. Jason saw him in the rearview mirror and pulled off the road and slammed on his breaks. The action caused the car to jolt and Roy, since he wasn't buckled in, to hit the side of the car door and possibly bruise his right shoulder. 

While he was trying to regain his bearings, Roy couldn't help but wonder what happened to his wolf, Cliffe. When Werewolves were agitated, their wolves often surfaced and projected through the host's bodies to communicate. And the Gamma was sure agitated, so where was Cliffe?!

The brunette male made a move to speak, but one glare from Jason silenced him. The black haired man growled and used his Alpha-command to control his volatile friend. 

Alphas rarely had to use their command capabilities. So for Jason having to use his on his own Gamma was a serious matter. Roy was always the 'calm' one in their friend group. He was reasonable, logical, and always had a plan. But in the past weeks he was getting more and more agitated. He'd lash out at others and was taking his warrior training a little too harshly. It had to stop. Even Roy knew it. That's why he allowed Jason to use his Alpha-command to put him back in his place. Because even though his pride was hurt, he was a reasonable person at heart. They hoped that he would stay that way.

With Roy finally not struggling and punching the interior of Jason's car, they all calmed down before talking it out.

Chase turned around in his seat to look at his subdued friend in the back seat. "What was that for?" He reiterated in a low voice. His blue eyes were dark with fury.

"What are you talking about?" Roy asked in a defeated tone.

"Why would you try to reject your mate?" The blonde man growled. His eyes were now silver on the edges; his wolf, Lian, was obviously angry.

Roy looked his friend dead in the eye. "I have my reasons," he finally spoke.

"Royce William Talonn," Chase ground out. "Tell us the truth."

"Why should I?" The Gamma crossed his arms in defense.

Jason turned to the brunette man, face carefully wiped of expression. "Because we're your closest friends. For heaven's sake! We might as well be your _family!!_ "

The Alpha noticed Roy flinch at the last word. It was almost imperceptible, but he saw it. Jason furrowed his brows. A theory came to his mind. Yes, it was possible.

He softened his gaze, just a smidge. His steel gray eyes were trained on Roy, trying to gauge his reaction. He placed his elbow on the armrest, leaning on it as craned to get a better look at the Gamma.

"You're doing this because of what happened to _her,_ aren't you?" he said, surveying the brown-haired man's face.

As predicted, Roy paled, considerately. The pupils in his brown eyes contracted in fear; reliving the horrible memory. The Gamma unconsciously gripped the watch on his hand. He fumbled with the fastenings, trying to ground himself.

Chase noticed his behavior as well and watched as understanding cleared his head. He cleared his throat, drawing Roy's attention. "Um, are you okay, man?"

Roy nodded his head, embarrassed at having another episode, like before. "Yeah," his voice was creaky. "Yeah, I'm doing this because of...because of _that._ "

Jason leant back in his seat and placed an arm on his friend's shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry, Roy. I really am. But it's been years. You need to let what happened go. You shouldn't let it rule your only chance left of happiness."

Roy looked askance. "Don't say that. You have no idea what it was like."

Before Jason could retort, Chase intervened.

"That still gives you no right to reject Morgan!" He growled at Roy.

At the sound of the name, the Gamma felt his heart beat a little faster. He cursed his body's natural reactions to mentions of his mate. He quickly schooled his features and thoughts before turning back to his insistent blonde friend. 

"M-Morgan?" he asked, lowly. "That's her name?"

A smirked worked it's way onto the Beta's features. "Yeah. Morgan. Her redhaired friend is Jane."

"I didn't ask about her friend." Roy grumbled.

A dark look crossed Chase's normally humorous face. He gripped the back of the chair.

"Why are you so awful?!" he exclaimed.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, man, I don't like talking about feelings," the blonde man cursed, loudly. "But something needs to be done about your attitude, _right now._ " He fixed the Gamma with a withering stare. "You just found _your mate_. The destined _love of your life!_ Most werewolves would _fetch a stick_ just to get the _chance_ to be in your shoes! And the first thing you decide to do is to reject her?!"

In a desperate attempt to suppress his anger and to not damage his friend's car, Chase got out and walked around to the other side. He wrenched open the back door and lent in to get a clearer view of the Gamma's face so he could get his point across.

"You don't even know her!!" Chase was practically yelling now. "You don't know how funny and kind that girl is! She's sweet, and dorky, and loves people! I don't even know her that well and I would already do anything for her! Do you wanna know why?! Because she's been nice to me and I could tell that she was your mate!!"

The silence in the car was deafening. Roy looked up at Chase, in shock at his words. Then, his gaze turned to one of seething anger. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

" _You already spoke to her?_ " He ground out, looking dangerous.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Really? Out of that whole speech, _that's_ what you got from it?!"

"How do you know her?" came the Gamma's low voice, again.

The blonde man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, man, okay? I just walked into that bookstore, planning to get a few numbers, and smelled her scent! And before you go all raging-mate-hormones on me," he warned and pointed a finger at Roy, who looked ready to kill. "Just know that I could smell your scent on her, too."

"Wait, how?" Jason entered the conversation.

Chase groaned. "I really hate explaining myself, so listen up. I'm only gonna say this once. I smelled Roy's scent on her, but I didn't realize it was him and I was confused. I came back the next day and met her friend, Jane. Jane is a werewolf and was able to tell me that Mo didn't have any other werewolf connections. She had an idea and gave me a book on werewolves and told me to read the chapter on mates. I came home and read it--I will have you know, it was a very long chapter--and I found out that if a werewolf is an Alpha, Beta, or Gamma, then their closest friends can smell their scent on their mate, even if they haven't met, yet. The end." 

"You could....smell my scent on her?" Roy asked, bewildered. 

"Thank the goddess, you caught on, you big baby."

When the Gamma growled again, Chase raised his arms in defense. "Oh, phooey. Don't take it personally," he snarled, sarcastically. "I only called you a baby 'cause you're acting like one. All of your mood swings and anger issues are driving me nuts." After a pause, he lowered his arms and continued. "Look, man, I can't tell you what to do, but I really think you should accept your mate. Or at least give her a chance. She's a really nice person and I'm sure that she can manage your issues well enough. She has this....this _way_ with people. Just....just think about it."


	12. Chapter 10

**Morgan**

Several seconds too late, Morgan finally registered what happened. She'd completely forgotten about Chase and the other man. How long had she been there, staring at the handsome man? What was it that he'd been trying to say? And even more importantly, why had he been rushed out so quickly?! **  
**

"What the heck just happened?" Morgan asked in the empty room.

She tucked the loose brown hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears. Still processing what had just happened, Mo leant against the nearby book cart in an attempt to regain her bearings. The horizontal titles stared back at her, but meant nothing to the brunette's unfocused gaze. Colors and words blurred together in her vision as she mentally withdrew to her subconscious. Mo always found it best to retreat into oneself in order to review past events that were hard to process.

"What do you mean?"

Broken from her trance-like state, the brunette turned to see Jane enter the room. The redhead adjusted her cream sweater so that the neck hole was offset, leaving a section of her left shoulder on display--as was the intended style. She shifted her weight to one leg and crossed her arms. She tilted her head and cocked a hip; the position normally meant that she was going to ask a question.

"Who was at the door, anyway?" she queried.

Morgan shook her head to try and clear it.

"Um," she said, uncertainly. "I-it was Chase." _Yeah, that's right._

Morgan noticed Jane grow stiff at the blonde man's name, but she chose to ignore it. It was weird, thought, that the encounter with Chase seemed like a while ago. But he had just been there, a few minutes previous. Then, the two people came in and....

The brunette girl blushed at the thought of the handsome stranger.

"H-he brought some friends," Mo trailed off. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan saw Jane freeze up, again. She turned to her best friend, concerned. 

"Are you alright?" she asked and took a step toward the redhead. "You look really pale."

The woman was indeed a little paler than normal. But it didn't look too serious, she just looked like she was processing information.

Jane blinked and faced her friend. "Oh, it's nothing," she answered and started playing with the ends of her long red hair. 

Morgan remained unconvinced by her friend's antics. She leant back against the light-wooded front desk and propped her hip against it. She placed her hand on the desk to evenly distribute her weight, so she wasn't overworking her right knee. Long story short, the brunette woman had sprained her knee while on a hike with Jane, a few months previous. It wasn't a big injury, but it did act up every once in a while.

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a real excuse from the red-haired woman. Jane sighed at her friend's expression.

"It really is nothing, Mo," she insisted. 

The brunette rolled her eyes and shifted back her stance. She moved from her leaning position on the desk so that she could stand up and walk without favoring her knee. She walked around the counter to the cash register and began organizing the drawers. 

_And in three....two....one...._

"Actually," Jane said in a determinately off-handed voice. "There is something."

 _Called it._ Morgan smirked before turning around to face her friend. "What?"

"Umm," Jane began to tug at the arms of her sweater---something she often did when she was preoccupied or thinking hard. "This is gonna sound weird, but could you describe Chase's friends?"

"Uh, why is that important?" Jane was right, it was kind of a weird request. "I mean, they were just guys. It wasn't li---wait! Do you..." Mo leaned in closer to her friend, concern etched on her face. "Do you _like_ them? I thought you were dating Daniel! I mean, I wouldn't blame you for leaving him for one of these hot guys, but I thought you'd have a little mo--!"

"--Oh my gosh, Morgan, _no!!_ " Jane was laughing now. "No, it's not like that. I'm in love with Daniel, _believe me._ "

The brunette sighed. To be honest, she didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. As Jane's resident best friend, she was obligated to think that all boys didn't deserve her friend. At the same time, against her better judgement, Mo was steadily warming up to Daniel. He was good for her and respected her. Not to mention that she'd heard from Jane that Daniel took her n the most unique and sometimes entertaining dates---he made sure that no date was ever repeated, to preserve how special and individual they all were.

Jane finally stopped laughing and Morgan shrugged.

"Sorry," the brunette said, defensively. "But you just made me assume it!"

Jane chuckled and adjusted her sweater, "No, it's okay. I guess I can see why you would think that."

Mo paused to try and get a mental picture of what the two strangers had looked like. She knew what the brunette man looked like, that's for sure. Heck, she might as well have salivated at the sight of him. Yeah, it wasn't her proudest moment.

"Well," she said, gaining certainty. "The first guy was tall and tan, and he had black spiky hair and gray eyes. And the o-other man was a little shorter. He had chocolate brown hair in a dressy-casual style and he had very nice brown eyes. His skin was lighter than his friends'--so, I'm guessing that he doesn't go outside as much as Chase and the other guy do. His eyes were actually really pretty. It was like they were made of warm chocolate, and they were lighter around the edges. Oh my gosh, you should have seen his eyes---they were like a puppy dog's!"

She paused at the look her redheaded friend gave her. "What?" she asked.

Jane smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, it's nothing," she said with a slow smile.

"Yeah, I don't believe that for a second," Mo pouted. "Come on! Just tell me!!"

Her friend put her hands up, defensively. "Alright, but don't get mad at me for saying this. Remember, you wanted to know! Anyway," reaching an arm around her neck, she gathered her elbow-length wavy hair to one side. "I was just thinking that it sounds like you have a crush." She said the last bit in a sing-song tone.

Morgan's face flushed bright pink. She grew even more embarrassed when she felt the heat coming from her cheeks and the tips of her ears. The brunette acted quickly and moved her hair to cover her cheeks and ears, hoping that Jane hadn't seen. But it was too late.

The redhead squealed excitedly and began hopping up and down. Her long wavy hair floated with each bounce and eventually got in her face. Instead of fixing it, however, the tall girl just continued her little dance and happy squeals. 

"Whoa wait! Stop!" Morgan tried in vain to halt her friend's antics. "What's gotten into you?!"

Jane screamed right in her face. The brunette girl jumped in surprise and fright. Regaining her bearings, Mo shook her friend's shoulders. At last, the redhead stopped bouncing. She turned to the other woman and beamed.

"Nothing's wrong!" she insisted.

"Then why did you act that way?!"

"Mo," she put her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "You haven't had a crush since you were a sophomore in high school!! Of course I'm stoked about this!!"

"First off, stoked is such an old word; never use that again. And second off, why is that such a big deal?!" Morgan tugged at her hair again.

"Girlie, I know that you don't give your heart to just anyone. So this guy must be a big deal!!" Jane's gray-green eyes were wide and enthusiastic. 

The brown-haired girl sighed and placed her hands on her hips, over top of the fabric of her pinstriped romper. "It doesn't matter, anyways," she shrugged. "He was about to say something and Chase and his friend rushed him out of the store. I don't think I'll ever see him again." She groaned, facepalming into the front desk counter.

There was a pause. Then she heard her friend's voice. "Wait, they forced him out?"

"Yeah, that's what I said." Mo cautiously raised her head from the desk to look at Jane. To be frank, what she saw unnerved her. 

The tall redhead looked practically murderous. Her eyes were sharp with disdain and her auburn brows were knitted together in an enraged line. She looked like she might start hyperventilating any second.

"Umm, are you okay?" Mo asked, even though her friend was most definitely _not_ okay. 

"Peachy." Jane ground out.

To the brunette girl's surprise, her friend ran to the back of the store and retrieved her things.

"U-uh, are you going somewhere?!" Mo felt startled by the woman's sudden actions.

"Yeah, out." Jane quipped as she tugged on the heavy gray coat and began pulling her hair up into a messy bun.

"Okay, jeez, I was just asking."

The redhead paused. She turned apologetically to Morgan and looked her in the eyes with a softer countenance. "I'm sorry, Mo, I just have a lot on my mind. I need to go check something out. I'll be right back."

"Alright," the brunette felt the tension in the air life. She was glad of it. "We're still on for a 'Jason Bourne' marathon, am I right?"

"Of course," Jane said with a smile. She made a move to leave but quickly turned back to her friend. "Will you let me know if any of those guys come back?"

"Um, I don't see why not." Morgan responded, the end of her sentence sounded like a question, however. She didn't see the point of the promise, but if it meant that much to her friend, she'd do it.

"Great." With that, Jane walked out of the store entrance.

The bell rang as the door closed, as was an unspoken rule in practically any store. The brunette girl sat, puzzling over the events of the last thirty minutes. Like, seriously, what was with people today? 


	13. Chapter 11

** Jane **

There were several good things about living in the Lake MacBride, Iowa, area. The temperature was pretty nice in the summertime. There was a good amount of vegetation---trees, flowers, grass, shrubs, and the likeness of others. The location of the small town was opportune. It wasn't a very big place, but it was located near enough to bigger places and attractions. For instance, Lake MacBride, nature preserves, malls, zoos, and landmarks. Jane and her friends had even been able to visit Mount Rushmore in the previous summer. Of course, it got freezing in the winter but at least there were snow days. Presently, in January, the snow was still on some rooftops and frost glazed over the ground. Sledding down slopes and hills was also a fun pastime. 

However, in Jane's opinion, the best part about living in the small area was the population. Because out of the population of about five-thousand people, a little more than two-thousand of them were werewolves. And of those two-thousand, at least five-hundred weren't in a pack---Rogues. That left only one-thousand-five-hundred werewolves in the entire area. And if basic math was applied, it could be calculated that only eight-hundred or so were able-bodied or between the ages of fifteen and forty-five. The point of these calculations was that with only eight-hundred wolves to consciously consider, she knew a lot of people.

All werewolves are taught to know their Alphas, Betas, and Gammas, as well as a few of the previous ones who had retired from those positions. So, it was easy for Jane to identify who Beta Chase McGinnia had brought with him to the store. Morgan had described one of the men with tan skin, spikey black hair, and gray eyes---that was obviously the Alpha. Under normal circumstances, Jane might have fangirled about her friend coming face-to-face with _the_ Alpha Jason Landon, as he was a big deal in the area. But if Jane's theory as to why he was there was correct, then she needed to get to the bottom of the issue. Morgan had also vividly described the other man as Caucasian with gelled brown hair and deep brown eyes. She was confident that she was talking about the Gamma, Roy Talonn. 

What both excited and frightened Jane, however, was how her friend had described Gamma Talonn. Morgan had even gone so far as to rant about his 'beautiful puppy-dog eyes.' The brunette hardly ever found anyone so attractive enough to obsess over them---fictional boys excluded---so, it was surprising for her to be so head-over-heels for a random man who walked into the shop for sixty seconds. That brought Jane to the conclusion that she was his mate. And she was happy for Mo! The only problem that she had was that if Roy introduced her to the 'werewolf world', then she would constantly be with Roy, as mates often were. And that would mean that Jane wouldn't have unlimited access to her best friend, anymore. And the redhead couldn't do anything about it. But right now, that was the least of her problems. 

As was mentioned before, living in the small town had its perks. And with such a manageable werewolf population, pretty much every wolf knew or knew of each other. This was an advantage for Jane because it made her search a lot easier to narrow down, using the process of elimination. 

The woman with long and wavy red hair strode along the road in the woods. She was on a mission. At last, she broke through the foliage and crossed the pack border line that separated the pack from the town. She marched up the gravel-spread pathway up to the pack house. Summoning her courage, she knocked on the door, loudly. Seconds later, the heavy oak door swung open and out stepped none other than the Alpha, Jason Landon, himself. 

Jane hurriedly took a respectful step back, cheeks ablaze with a blush. She wasn't used to seeing the Alpha in such normal clothes. Most of the time she saw him at pack meetings he wore button-up shirts and khakis. But now he donned a pair of faded old jeans and had an army-green hoodie on. An expensive-looking camera hung from its strap around his neck. His straight black hair wasn't as voluminous and spiky as it normally was. When she met his steel-gray eyes she noticed the slight bags and dark circles under them. 

He smiled, politely. "Hello there," he greeted her with his deep voice. "Can I help you with something?"

"I--um," Jane stuttered. "I'm looking for the Beta."

"May I ask why?" Alpha Landon leant against the doorway, looking tired and exhausted.

She straightened her hair and her coat, trying to look like she hadn't just run fifty miles to get there. "It is a matter of personal business. I think he's done something that might hurt my friend. Actually, it might also heavily affect the pack."

The Alpha furrowed his brow, concerned in all areas that related to his pack. He ran his eyes over her figure. Jane felt like she was being x-rayed, which was close enough, since he was obviously trying to discern if she was a threat. After another moment, he clearly decided that she passed the appraisal. He stepped aside to let the tall woman through and into the incredibly large house.

Jane walked past, head bowed low as a sign of respect and obedience---an instinct that all pack members had. The redhead couldn't help but gasp at the sight before her. 

Wood paneling lined the walls of the spacious Pack House, along with a complimentary color of wooded floorboards. The first floor of the house had a high vaulted ceiling---in a regular-sized building, it would have taken up at least three floors. A crimson carpet took up the most space in the entryway. To the right of the entrance was the large kitchen. It had no doors, only an empty space where a wall could have been, if there was to be a door. And to the left of the entrance was an extremely large room. This one did have all its walls and a large wood door. Jane would have wagered to guess that it was the conference room for all inter-pack meetings. There was a set of stairs along the wall with the door into the conference room---certainly leading to the second level. 

Alpha Landon took the lead, guiding her forward and into the house. He led the red-haired woman down a wide hallway and past a spacious dining room. She could see into the dining room because, like the kitchen, the room had only three walls. One of which appeared to be the wall of the outside of the house and therefore was the Pack House's perimeter. And the other two walls were on opposite ends of the room---forming ninety-degree angles with the original wall and also separating the dining room from the kitchen and whatever room was on the other side of the southern wall. The walls in the dining room were gray, almost a dove's-wing color, and the rectangular table in the center of the room was of an ash-blonde hue. Some light-honey wood-staining had also been applied. The table was so large, it reminded Jane of King Arthur's round table. It wouldn't have surprised her is it could seat twenty people. She assumed that it was also used when outsider pack leaders had to stay due to peace treaty negotiations or other inter-pack meetings. 

Before she could actually count the chairs, the Alpha made his way to the left, where an opening ten feet wide indicated another slightly open-walled room. Upon entering she observed that it was a television room or living room. The large walls were painted a warm brown with darker wooded baseboards. A humongous dark leather couch sat on the edge of the center burgundy rug. The couch was so large, Jane was sure it could house an entire high school party that offered free Wi-Fi. Alright, that was an exaggeration. But it did look like it might fit between fifteen and twenty people. In all honesty, Jane felt bad for the person whoever had to put it together. 

A loveseat couch sat perpendicular to the large furniture and the large screen mounted on the opposite wall. It was also larger than the normal two-cushioned mini-couch. Instead, it had four and was long enough for two baby elephants to comfortably lay on. And lounging on said loveseat, was the very person she was looking for.

Jane crossed the room, forgetting that her Alpha was there, and strode across the room. She came to a stop in front of the blonde Beta and placed her hands on her hips, fury reignited. Chase gave a start and sat up, nearly cowering under her stern gaze.

"What did I do to deserve that look?" he groaned. 

Jane crossed her arms, feeling....well...cross. "You just single-handedly threw my best friend's chance at happiness down a metaphorical garbage disposal!"

The Beta blinked for a bit and then rubbed at his eyes. "Listen, lady, you just woke me up from a nap. I have a hard enough time thinking as it is. Can you cut it out with the big words?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know I was addressing a _two-year-old!_ " she replied, snarkily. "Perhaps I need to dumb it down for you."

"Please do," came the voice to her right. Jane turned to see the Alpha sitting on the armrest, looking amused. "This is one of the few times I think I've seen Chase ridiculed. And I've got to say, I'm enjoying it. So please, carry on, Miss."

Jane flushed with embarrassment at yelling at her pack's Beta whilst in the presence of the Alpha. But now wasn't the time for regret. 

She leant forward and huffed, angrily. "I know that Gamma Talonn is Morgan's mate! And I know that you," she pointed a finger at Chase's chest, poking him. "And....Alpha Landon," she said with a slight nod of her head. "Pulled the Gamma away from Mo before he could accept her!"

There was a pause. Her accusation hung in the air, setting a slightly tense atmosphere. 

"Huh?" the blonde man said, looking confused. "N-no that's not what happened."

Jane hesitated. Did she get it wrong? Was Morgan actually not Gamma Talonn's mate?

Alpha Landon must have been able to read her expression because he entered the conversation. "You were right that Morgan and Roy are mates," he assured her. "But we didn't try to stop him from accepting her. Where did you get that idea from?"

The redhead's cheeks bloomed with an embarrassed blush. "U-um, Morgan told me that he was about to say something when you guys suddenly took him by the arms and rushed him out of the store."

The Alpha nodded, looking considerate. "I can see why you would jump to that conclusion, then."

"Man," Chase interrupted and looked annoyedly at his friend. "Will you stop sounding so professional?! Every time someone else besides me and Roy talks to you, you turn into this businessman. Seriously! Talk normally, please!"

"It's 'Roy and I'," Jane mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Even with werewolf hearing, the Beta hadn't quite caught what she'd said.

"Never mind," the redhead quickly amended. "Anyway, if you weren't preventing the Gamma from being mates with my best friend, then what were you doing?"

Alpha Landon looked slightly guilty at this. It looked like his guilt was second-handed, however. He cast a side-glance at Chase before answering Jane's question. 

"Roy was very affected by the mate pull, as all mates are. But," he paused to rub at his jawline, absentmindedly. "He didn't react well to it," he finally said. "He tried to reject her. That's why we whisked him out so quickly. Chase and I recognized the official 'words of rejection' and we just grabbed him. It was all so fast, we barely had time to think. We didn't even leave an excuse." He smiled, apologetically at Jane.

"Oh," Jane nodded, taking in the news. "I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter, anymore," Chase mumbled and shifted back into a reclined position. "Roy said he'll give her a chance sometime, so unless your friend is a total weirdo or has something against paperwork, she's good."

Jane knew he was joking, but at the same time she felt apprehensive at the first requirement. Just because she accepted Mo's randomness didn't mean that many others did. She cleared her throat and banished the thought from her mind. 

"Uh...paperwork?" she asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's all that he does," Chase complained and threw an arm over his eyes. "It's part of the reason that I teased him about needing a mate. Maybe your friend will finally convince him to let loose and not be so uptight."

"Maybe," Jane murmured. 

"It would be a blessing," the blonde man dramatically flopped on his side. "Now if you'll excuse me, Sleeping Beauty needs his rest."

"Wow, 'Sleeping Beauty', huh?" Jane couldn't help but tease. "No wonder you're so feminine."

As she predicted, Chase's indignant squawk sounded and was met by both Jane's and Jason's laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Are there any questions?


End file.
